


Unfortunate circumstances

by CaelumBlack



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Cancer, F/F, Mentions of Cancer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-26 17:49:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 50,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7584061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaelumBlack/pseuds/CaelumBlack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Cosima Delphine is like a hurricane, she enters her life unexpectedly and under rather unfortunate circumstances. Cosima is fighting for her life, only her parents know. Cosima tries to find a way between being treated for leukemia and falling in love for the first time. </p><p>or </p><p>Cosima loves Delphine, but she won't acknoledge it because she might be dying and what person falls in love while they're dying?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ONE

On a dreary and supposedly meaningless day somewhere in late April I found out I was one of the lucky few people who got cancer at the age of twenty-six. I found out during an appointment with my doctor that was meant to be short and uneventful and had been scheduled for only fifteen minutes in my busy diary. The appointment took a little longer considering what he had to tell me. It was supposed to be him telling me that I did or didn't have Pfeiffer or Lyme disease, or so I had thought. Not for a second had I considered cancer. 

Sure, I had been extremely tired for a long period of time, not just after a long day of hard or even semi-hard work, but the minute I woke up, no matter how long I had slept. I had blamed both winter and my extreme work hours. I had blamed my dizziness and paleness on the fact that I had been so tired all the time. Yes, at some point strange, unexplainable bruises had appeared everywhere on my body but still, what twenty-six year old expected Acute Myeloid Leukemia. The bad kind of course, the one that gave you a fifteen percent survival chance within the next couple of years and even if you survived those years, there was a seventy-eight percent chance of relapsing. This of course was my future if I decided to start chemo the next week. If I didn’t start chemo straight away, I would probably die within the next few months, depending on how aggressive the cancer was. 

So basically, that day, I heard my life was over. My father, had he been there with me, would have told me that a fifteen percent chance wasn't so bad, the Niehaus family members were survivors. “Look at grandma,” he'd have said in his deep, raspy voice, “she survived two hurricanes, a flood, a broken back and breast cancer and she’s still around, surely you can survive some blood cancer”. He'd say it but he wouldn't have meant it. There'd be tears in his eyes and his hands would be curled up in fists, his knuckles white, his hands shaking. My mother would just be crying, her face hidden in her hands, making sounds that would make any bystander feel embarrassed. 

They hadn't been there though, it had been just me, sitting there, feeling very small and sick to the stomach while the man opposite me was explaining just how screwed I was. Something about abnormal white blood cells, me being special for having a rare disease (which didn't make me laugh), bone marrow research and stem cell transplants (did I have brothers or sisters, well no, all right then I was going to have to be my own donor), chemotherapy (inevitable) and of course we spoke of support systems and even about death. Which obviously was very disconcerting to even think of when just half an hour ago I had been under the impression I still had years to live still.

My doctor, a tiny, middle-aged Indian man with a slight lisp and an unpronounceable last name told me I should tell my parents and friends about my cancer because I needed to have a support system. Somehow he expected me to have treatment without even thinking to really ask me. I told the doctor I didn’t know whether I wanted to start the entire ordeal of chemo therapy sessions, bone marrow extractions, stem cell transplants, blood transfusions and who knows what else. Doctor B. strongly advised me to start chemo straight away and I strongly advised him to let me make my own decisions. 

He asked me to explain why in the world I would refuse to have chemo when at this point I at least still had a chance to live for years and I gave him a detailed explanation of my view on the situation, dying of leukemia would probably be uncomfortable but dying of leukemia after having had loads of chemo flooding through my veins would be worse. I had seen loads of cancer movies, read dozens of cancer books and had lost three of my grandparents to cancer, which hadn’t been a pretty sight. Of course there would be the puking, the baldness (I wasn’t convinced I’d rock that look), the loss of taste, the soars in my mouth that would lead to me not eating which would lead to me losing an extreme amount of weight. 

The worst thing was, even with the chemo and everything around it, I had only a small chance of actually surviving the first or second year. The leukemia probably would come back, which would mean I’d have to start the entire cycle over again. The end result would most likely be me dying anyway, without my dignity, a bald, sweaty and puking pile of misery. I wouldn’t even look like myself any longer and that thought made me resent treatment even more. So basically, I’d walked out of doctor B’s office after telling him I wouldn’t start chemo somewhere during the next few days or at any other time. I might be dying of cancer but at least I’d die with my dignity intact.

The next few days passed by in a daze, I spent most of my time at home, behind my desk, working. Even though I hadn’t expected to be inspired, I found I was. During my first day I finished a project I’d been working on for months, the day after I started working on a project I’d received the week before, I had been asked to write four episodes for a series that was about to air somewhere during the next year. Despite the fact that I would never even see those episodes air on TV, I’d found some inspiration somewhere deep inside me and had written the episodes within a couple of days, including a few all-nighters. I even sent all of my work the moment they’d been finished. 

The third day was a Saturday and I received an unexpected call from someone I’d worked with a couple of years previous. Scott, a filmmaker for whom I’d written two movies, invited me for the annual open-air movie festival because one of his latest short movies would be shown there. My first instinct was to decline and bury myself deeper into my work since I had so little time left as it was so I told him no. He told me he’d make sure a ticket was waiting for me at the entrance anyway, in case I showed up. 

The next day I found my thoughts wandering off to the film festival, it was one of my favorites and I had gone every year ever since I had been old enough to go. So why would I let myself deny the pleasure of going this year, surely not because of some lame-ass cancer. It would be my last for god’s sake. Once I realized that, I decided to go to the festival no matter what was going on with my body. I forced myself into the shower, which I hadn’t seen ever since the appointment with my doctor and cleaned up my very smelly act, put on some clean clothes, actual jeans with an actual-clean t-shirt and went over to the park where the festival was being held. 

By the time I arrived, the first movie had already started so I went to go look for Scott whom I found somewhere in the back of the field, impatiently tapping his foot and nervously drumming his thighs with his hands in some kind of unfamiliar rhythm I didn’t recognize. Over the five years I hadn’t seen him he hadn’t changed much. His face had grown only a little more mature but he still looked way younger than he really was. Probably also due to the fact that he could not grow a beard. He was lucky like that I guess, or unlucky, depending how you looked at it. Funny thing though about men with heavy beard growth, they always complain about having to shave so often while simultaneously, men who can’t grow beards whine about not being to do just that. Same thing with women with straight hair versus women with curls I guess. People are rarely ever satisfied these days, or has it always been like that? 

“God Cosima, you look like shit, have you been working too hard again,” Scott generously started the conversation with. 

Nah got cancer was the first thing that crossed my mind but I replied with a lie that came entirely too easy. “You know me, you know me,” I said while I hugged my friend. 

Friend, such a strange way to describe someone with whom I hadn’t spoken in five years. Still, it would be odd to call him an acquaintance, right? I was always confused about these things. Sometimes I wondered whether I had skipped the basic lessons in life that all my other friends knew how to apply without even having to think about it. Not me, I was a dork like that. 

We sat down next to each other and Scott offered me a beer, which I declined, and then introduced me to the girl sitting next to him, she was pretty, with long, dark hair and a figure to die for and big blue eyes. She smiled at me as she extended her hand and introduced herself as Megan, his girlfriend. She seemed nice enough, but somehow kept looking at me suspiciously from the corner of her eye while I talked business with Scott. 

“So, tell me what is the film about?” 

“It’s about a guy who just found out his girl has been cheating on him for years and then he meets someone else because of his ex and they fall in love.”

“So it’s biographical,” I stated, remembering the tale of Scott and Nina, the ex who broke his heart in such a manner that he couldn’t get out of bed for months.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing it, when did you shoot it?”

“About a year back, I’ve been looking for big screens to show it and heard this festival had a competition for filmmakers so I sent in my movie and they liked it so much that I won and I got to show my film.”

“Your film has to be pretty good to be shown here, well done Scott, I’m proud of you.”

Scott smiled and gently squeezed my knee. “Thanks Cosima, that means a lot.” 

The girlfriend's eyes turned into slits at seeing his hand on my knee. I decided to ignore the glare.

“I still think Café Noir should have been shown at this festival back then,” I offered. 

“Yeah, it should have, our movie was great.”

“Definitely, but it was shown at the Parade, which is also a great accomplishment so we did pretty good.” 

Scott grinned and nodded. 

“Anything good coming up tonight that you know of? I haven't really looked at the schedule.”

Scott frowned. “That's not like you, you need to get out of that apartment of yours more often, you're starting to become a cavemen.”

That made me laugh and I punched his shoulder. "Shut up asshole, I am anything but a cavemen, now tell me about the movies today.”

He thought about that for a moment while Megan kept glancing at me from the corner of her eye. It made me feel kind of uncomfortable to be honest. I didn’t like it when people stared at me. She probably thought I was flirting with him, wasn't there some sort of saying that when girls liked boys they hit them often? Again the lack of having social knowledge screwing with me.

“Well, there’s this one filmmaker that is supposed to be amazing.”

“Who is it? Maybe I know him.” 

“Well, I don’t think you do. She hasn’t done anything before this I think, I’m not sure though but the people I’ve spoken to talk very highly of her.”

“All right, so what’s her name?”

“No clue, no one seems to know. All I know is that she’s European and new in town so I’ve never seen anything that’s hers, she did some work back there, won some kind of prize at a film festival in Paris, have you heard of her?” 

I frowned a little, trying to recall whether I had ever heard anything about people winning prizes at film festivals in Paris but it didn’t ring a bell. I shrugged and shook my head. “Doesn’t sound familiar at all.”

“Well, if you don’t know her,” he grinned.

“If she even is European, it all seems like gossip to me but I’m not very familiar with European filmmakers to be honest, just American, Canadian and British ones.” 

“Yeah, I don’t know much more than what I’ve told you but I hear this movie is definitely going to be worth your while so I’d stick around for it if I were you.”

“When is it playing?”

“Couple after mine.”

I nodded and stared at the schedule in my hand that I’d been given. “You are next right?”

“Yeah.” 

My head automatically moved toward the large screen and gestured at it by curtly nodding toward it. “This one any good?”

“It’s a Blake movie, he wrote and directed it so you know what to expect.”

That made me laugh. “They let him show his movie, seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“He made one good movie ten fucking years ago, this is so lame. His movies suck.” 

For a long moment we watched the screen and the movie resembled his only successful movie from ten years ago, he had used the same kinds of filming techniques, the same way of transitions between scenes, he had even used the same actress, who had aged ten years according to time since the movie had been shot but looked like she had aged twenty. The only things that had changed were the location, most of the storyline and the fact that now every character in the background of the movie held a smartphone or tablet in front of them instead of a newspaper. 

I really hated it when people tried to recreate their success by almost copying their most successful project. In a way it was good though, it meant his movies probably wouldn’t be played here anymore or anywhere else and that his name would soon be forgotten. It was time for new names, new blood, new ideas and new great movies. The thing with filmmakers was that once they had made a truly good movie, they usually got into any kind of movie festival just because of that success, which often meant the festival makers wouldn’t ask to see the movie beforehand because it might offend the filmmaker. Then things like this happened, disappointed audiences, offended other filmmakers, annoyed film festival organizers and for good reason. This was truly misusing the trust of people who worked their assess off to create the best possible festival. 

After the movie ended a significant silence followed and several people got up and went over to one of many the bars and food stands to get something to eat. It was normal for filmmakers to denounce their movies and receive applause after the movie had ended but Blake hadn’t shown his face afterwards, probably because no one had applauded. These people were the real deal, film lovers to the bone and my guess was that ninety percent of the audience had seen his previous movie. The other ten percent would know by now that his latest movie was nothing but a lame remake of his only success. 

During festivals like this there were fifteen to twenty minute breaks between the movies and usually ten movies or so were played on the big screen in front of us. I liked that, I liked that there was only one screen and that there weren’t several, like during other festivals, I enjoyed the fact of staying seated in the camping chair I had brought to most movie festivals I had attended. Getting up and moving all of your stuff when you were with a group of ten or more was just annoying so most people remained in one place, even if that meant they would miss a good movie shown at another screen. 

A little while after Blake’s film had ended, someone came up to Scott and lead him away to the stage in front of the screen where he got to announce his film. I had never seen him more proud and excited. I looked over to Megan who smiled broadly, totally having forgotten about me it seemed. She looked so proud as well and I felt a pang deep inside my chest. I would never get that, I would never know what it feels like to be in love. 

Scott’s movie was exactly what I had expected, great, short and powerful. The actors were amazing and very good with expressing emotions, I had never seen them before and was quite surprised about that, usually I knew most actors who played in short movies but the two main characters were about as unfamiliar to me as the French cuisine was to a MacDonalds chef. After Scott’s movie another three were shown and just when I was about to get up to get going home because I was getting tired Scott told me to stay because the next movie was going to be the best of the evening. It was the one of the French girl slash woman or whoever she was. Though Scott joked about his film obviously being the best of the evening and if it actually turned out to be I wouldn’t be surprised, it had been really good. The music still haunted me and that was definitely rare. 

The next movie started out of the blue without being introduced, which was unusual to say the least, most film makers were proud enough to introduce their movies, not introducing your movie was considered either arrogant or rather the opposite, modest as fuck, and then there was the occasional filmmaker who wanted to remain anonymous but that happened so rarely it was easier to presume the film maker was arrogant, most were. 

The crowd quieted down and I looked around, somehow hoping to find the arrogant filmmaker smiling like a Cheshire cat, which would totally reveal the so far anonymous creator of this supposedly great film. I found no super smiles anywhere around me and figured the filmmaker was probably not anywhere around me. During the day I had heard more whispers about the name of the film ‘the untitled work of anonymous’ than expected. Which was a great title as well and it had created a lot of rumors and gossip, which was always good for your film, as long as people talked about it. 

The movie screen started off black and silent until the sound of wind started making its way over the terrain, first soft, then louder and louder, it sounded like the kind of wind that you heard on a windy day at the beach, wild and frenzied. Then the screen became lighter and turned from black to a dark blue to a lighter blue, there were a few clouds and the sky looked summery and perfect. The camera moved back a bit and two women came into view, they stood on a cliff, wearing nothing but shorts and a summery top. Both women were attractive but not in the obvious kind of way, it was a little more layered somehow. The woman to the left had long dark hair, piercing dark eyes that showed the kind of excitement when about to do something stupid but fun. The second woman, who had red hair and freckles shared the same kind of look and it was so powerful and real that I felt an unfamiliar sensation jolt through me, some kind of longing to stand there on that same cliff with them and do whatever it was they were about to do. Probably jump off. 

They were holding each other’s hands, which told me they were either lovers or good friends. The thing that made this shot so powerful was the fact that they didn’t speak, there was only the deafening sound of the wind, mixed with the sound of seawater beating violently against the rocks far below. There is another moment of suspension before the pair jumps into the ocean.

The moment they hit the water the shot changed to a different kind of setting, instead of the sea there was now a river flowing wildly between two steep mountain walls. The women were inside a large raft with another couple of adventurers, they were laughing and screaming and though the sound of rushing water once again boomed and nearly overwhelmed my ears it was obvious they were having fun. 

The shot changed again and we saw the girls inside a house where it was deadly quiet. Someone coughed somewhere near the front of the field and it sounded loud and intrusive, alien somehow, out of place in the sudden silence of the living room. The dark-haired woman sat on the couch, she stared into the distance while the other women sat next to her, a book in her lap but she obviously wasn’t reading a single word. There was nothing left of the excited looks on their faces and I felt like an intruder for sitting there on that enormous field, watching them be unhappy together because that is exactly what they appeared to be. There was no talking, no laughter, they didn’t even look at each other and seemed completely out of place next to each other. Where before they had looked like they belonged together, in that living room they looked like they matched as well as an orange sweater on purple slacks. 

Sound started building again and now there was the sound of screaming as both girls held hands and jumped off an enormously tall bridge, the only thing connecting them to the actual bride a thick elastic cord. There was the sound of rushing wind again and another change of scenery before they were being hauled back up again toward the platform from which they had jumped. 

Another home shot and now they were having dinner, take-out, both were quiet and the silence was once again deafening compared to the deafening sounds of the shot before. The unhappy looks on their faces were back. The dark haired girl poked at something that looked like chicken but didn’t take a bite, the red haired girl seemed to sort her food, vegetables with other vegetables, meat with meat. I felt a pang deep inside my stomach and noticed I actually felt for them. They were just sitting there, unable to even look at each other, let alone talk to each other. The exciting things had taken over their lives it seemed and I wondered how in the world they would ever enjoy the little things again. I wondered if they ever had enjoyed the little things in life. 

My hands curled up into fists in anger as a thought occurred to me, I would not be able to enjoy the grand things in life, I would not even be able to enjoy the little things in life. Everything I had ever worked wouldn’t matter anymore in just a couple of short months. It all seemed so hopeless to sit here and watch this movie while knowing I would not truly be able to enjoy anything anymore. To me the movie was a reflection on the way life could be if you only appreciated the grand things in life and what happened if you forgot to enjoy the little things as well. The movie was like a personal slap in the face and it kind of made me feel ashamed of myself. In a year there would be nothing left of me but ashes and the faint memory of who I had once been. People probably would have forgotten what I looked like, what I smelled like. Twenty-six years on this planet and the only thing I had to show for it was my work. 

I wondered whether other people felt like that as well while watching this. As I looked about I saw that people were staring at the screen hard, sucked into the movie the same way I was, whenever there was an 'at home' scene, everyone looked uncomfortable, like they were intruding someone's privacy, whenever there were 'extreme-adrenaline-activities' scenes, everyone looked excited, like they were sucked into the situation along with the girls on the screen. It was amazing the way this movie pulled everyone in. 

Another home scene appeared, both girls were in bed, their backs toward each other, they were awake, staring at the walls of their room, walls that were covered with pictures of them doing the most amazing things, rock climbing, rafting, bungee jumping, jumping out of a plane. All great adventures, there wasn't one picture of them just being together, sitting in a field of grass, or under a tree or relaxing at the beach. They seemed so lost into their world of adrenaline that they were unable to communicate with each other, both verbally and physically in the real world. The redhead is crying silently in the quiet of the night and the other woman does nothing to comfort her. 

Another shot of them, fighting now, arms were flailing, angry looks were shot at each other, the scene was quiet but it was obvious this is a break-up fight. There was shouting, there were tears and everything that probably belonged to fights like this. I'd never had a fight like this so all I figured was supposed to be in there, I had learned from the movies. It looked real though, hell, it felt real and I wasn't even a participant. Anger coursed through my veins like I was the one fighting with the woman I loved, despite the fact that I didn't know what it felt like to love another person like that. I had always wondered whether I was even capable of loving another person the way my parents loved each other. So far, I wasn't convinced. 

Another scene, the dark-haired woman walked outside, it was still light outside and all around her people rushed by, all seemed into their own world, some seemed troubled, some seemed cheered but most showed little emotion. Every now and then someone checked their watch but most stared down at the screens of their smartphones. 

The woman walked into a subway station and when the subway arrived she got in and sat down at one of the few available seats. There was no buzzing sound of conversation, there was the familiar screeching of a subway making its way through the city and there was an occasional female voice in the background announcing the next station. The woman just sat and stared into oblivion, lost in her own thoughts. Fellow passengers were too, most held a smartphone or tablet in their hand, staring blindly at it, several were typing. No matter what your troubles were, whether you were in a fight with a loved one, whether you had just lost your job or even if you were grieving over someone you had recently lost, all around you people would be busy with themselves, they all had their own troubles and that was something that would never change. It was an unsettling thing to see.

Eventually the shot changed again and the woman was walking through a park and she truly seemed to look around her, there were children playing, families having a picnic, groups of people throwing footballs at each other. Daylight was fading and there were sounds of laughter, buzzing insects, chirping of birds, the sound of a fountain in the background. The woman actually smiled, she seemed at peace with herself for the first time during the entire movie. She was not unhappy or high on an adrenaline rush. 

The redheaded woman sat at home, on the couch, watching the clock every few seconds, it was eight-fifteen in the morning. The front door opened and the other woman came in. Both looked like shit and obviously hadn't slept all night. They rushed toward each other and hugged, kissed and stared at each other, regret clear in their gazes. The dark-haired woman held something behind her back and gently offered it to the woman in front of her, it was a single red rose. Something small compared to the grand things they'd done together. Still the girlfriend broke into tears and gently took it, as if she were given her girlfriend’s heart as a present to keep for eternity. 

They looked refreshed as they made their way into the same park the brunette had been at the day before. They were holding hands and looked genuinely at ease walking there through the fields of green all around them. Eventually they ended up at a fountain and both threw in a coin and closed their eyes as they appeared to make a wish. 

The peaceful sounds of nature turned more violently, wind whipping again like at the start of the movie, seawater angrily beating against rock. There was the perfect blue sky again, cloudless this time. They stood together, hand in hand, facing the seemingly infinite sea in front of them. There were excited looks on their faces and it looked like they were about to jump again but then the dark-haired woman let go of the other woman's hand, faced her and sunk down onto a knee, pulling out a box and opening it. 

The redhead's eyes grew big and she started crying and she seemed to yell YES at least thrice. The couple hugged and kissed and hugged again before again facing the ocean, holding hands once more. Then they turned and the camera shifted toward a blanket that was lying a couple of feet away from where they had stood. The sound quieted somewhat as they sat down on the blanket where several kinds of food were stalled out, a six-pack of beer. The redhead laid her head down onto the lap of the dark-haired woman and they automatically searched for each other's hands. The brunette kissed the hand lightly before reaching down to kiss her fiancée's lips. 

The scene faded and turned black after which the words –THE END- appeared. There was a long silence during which no one made a sound. To my surprise I found my cheeks were damp with tears, without realizing it, tears had started streaming down my face somewhere during the movie. The entire situation had me rattled, the movie had shaken me to the core. Never in my entire life had a movie made me cry. I had always been called heartless because I never cried a tear during any single movie I had ever seen in my life. Nor had I ever cried in the presence of my friends. Honestly, I wasn't a big crier in general, if I had to count the times I had cried in my entire life I would probably only need about two hands and most of those times were during my childhood. It was impossible to remember the last time a tear had made its way out of my eyes. Yet here I sat, at this stupid festival, with only a couple of months to live and I was actually crying my eyes out like a baby. 

All round me people appeared to be in a stupor like me, several people around me cried. Scott sat hand in hand with Megan, staring at the screen that showed nothing but blackness. No one got up for a drink, no one spoke or clapped, everyone just remained seated as they stared up at that empty screen, sunken into their own thoughts. This was truly a movie that would get people to think. Then the first person started to applaud. Several followed but definitely not everyone. Some people got up and joined the clapping and soon everyone was standing, as if they'd all just gotten out of a trance. 

I took that moment to get the hell out of there. There was only one that inside my head and there was something I needed to do and I needed to do it now before I changed my mind. As I made my way through the crowd, pushing people aside here and there, my heart raced, my cancerous blood seemed to rush through my body twice as fast as usual, making me feel overheated like I had a fever. As I left the film festival terrain applause haunted me. It had turned dark somewhere during the movie and I needed three things, two of which I had on me, the third I had to look for. I found it nearby the exit, a lantern. Then I got the two other things from my pocket, my phone and the card my doctor had given me, the card with his phone number on it and a hand-written text call me when you change your mind.


	2. TWO

That Monday I received my first chemo treatment. I had to report for duty at eight after which I had to go through all kinds of tests first, then they put a central line into my neck (which hurt like hell) through which the lovely poison called chemo would flow. I'd tell the name of my personal poison but it was a difficult one to remember and it didn't matter anyway, poison was poison, wasn't it? 

Once everything was installed bags of chemo were hooked onto the central line and within a matter of seconds the fluid was rapidly making its way into my system. All the while I was sitting there in that bed where I'd be spending the next four weeks (if this first round of induction therapy actually worked), all I could think of was that I had made a mistake. It wasn't even the doctors and nurses fussing over me, trying to make me feel at ease, which I didn't obviously. It was the fact that the decision I'd made after the movie was one that might very well save me. What if I lived, what in the world would change then? Was I supposed to start doing extreme sports just to make me feel alive, like those girls had in the movies? Was I supposed to take weekly walks in the park just to make me feel at peace with the world. That wasn't me. Never had been, not even while growing up. I wasn't even sure what I had done for fun before I'd reached adulthood, except for writing movies of course. Writing was my life, I was writing, what else was there about me that was even remotely interesting, I had become my work over the course of the years. 

The moment I called my mother was the moment I had first woken up while almost choking on my own vomit. It had taken me three chemo treatments before the puking began and I had been in such a panic that not even the nurses could calm me down. So I called my mother, crying my eyes out and telling her that I needed her to come over. At first my mom thought I’d gotten into a fight with my best friend or that my heart somehow got broken (where in the world she got that idea I didn’t know, it was widely known that I didn't date or like anybody, ever!). 

I told my mom I’d tell her what had happened but that I wanted to tell her, and preferably my father, in person and at the same time. She told me to come over and that she would try her best to make sure my dad would be home as well. I told her to come to the hospital instead and insisted that she had to bring my dad as well. That did it, panic crept into my mother's voice as she demanded to know what had happened. Again I promised I'd tell her but I needed to do it in person.

After I hang up the phone I spent an uncomfortable period of time waiting for my parents to arrive. It took them shorter than I had expected. While lying in my bed with a new bag of poison hooked to my central line I had made a mental timeline. My mom rushing out of the house without her bag, racing over to my father's work where she needed some time to convince my workaholic father to go with her (seriously, it runs in the family). Then my father took over the driving because my mother was too much in a panic to drive a straight line for more than a hundred meters. My father was a slow driver so it would have taken him around twenty to thirty minutes to get from the suburbs into town, to park and find my room. In my calculations it took them fifty minutes. It actually took them thirty-five minutes of torture, during which I kept on picturing my parents crying and screaming and crying again at the news that I would share with them once they arrived. 

The moment they arrived my mother looked at my face for one second before knowing something very bad was going on. They said nothing as they took a seat beside my new bed. I couldn’t look them in the eye with a straight face so I just sat there in my supposed pajamas, fingering the hem of my sweater nervously. Both my parents appeared to make a guessing game of the situation because they shot optional issues at me but I shook my head at every guess. 

Eventually I confessed, rather guiltily, about going to the hospital for testing a couple of weeks back because I’d been afraid of having Lyme disease or Pfeiffer (feeling tired and shit) and then about the doctor telling me that I had cancer instead. I just blurted out the entire story, somewhere deep inside me feeling relieved that I could finally tell someone. Without having realized it, the weight of my secret, no matter how short I'd carried it around, had been heavier than expected. I actually felt lighter after telling them. 

So I explained that I needed chemo therapy in two phases, induction and post-remission. The induction phase existed currently of ten days of chemo, a three-week waiting period in the hospital, after which, on the twenty-first day, they would research my bone marrow. If the cancerous cells were low enough, I'd start the second phase, if not, I'd get another session of induction chemo. During the second phase, which resembled the first one but had another purpose, to maintain the progress made during the induction phase. I'd start with several days of chemo therapy after which I would have to wait a couple of weeks, these weeks would be terrible, my physical resistance against diseases would be terribly weak, which in turn could lead to complications. Besides that, by then I would not resemble myself any longer, I’d be bald, I’d sweat practically all day long, I’d have little to no strength in my body which would mean I’d want to sleep most of the day, but I couldn’t, I also had to work out regularly, to keep some sort of physical condition. The stronger I was, the better I would fare during the entire treatment that was, after all, a terrible blow to the entire body.

Post-remission stage, also known as the consolidation phase would make sure the result we'd booked during the first stage would remain stable. That didn't mean that during those two but probably three chemo periods, I would become healthy, no of course not, to make sure that the stupid cancer cells would truly be defeated, my, by then, more or less healthy stem cells would be extracted from my body, frozen and later, after a beautiful case of high dose chemotherapy, which would be worse than the chemo during the previous two phases, injected back into my body. Then months of revalidation would follow. After all of this, the chance of the cancer coming back within one or two years, was gigantic, which would mean another long period of chemo therapy and treatments would be around the corner. All in all, I was one lucky gal with the brightest of futures. 

My mother, as expected, started crying so hard when I dropped the C word, she sniffed and blew her nose (I think she used an entire pack of tissues) for the entire ninety long minutes I sat on the bed facing her, even when she started yelling. She was in denial about the entire thing, first about me having cancer, then about me needing treatment, so she cried, which is only normal but after denial (a whole hour of crying) comes anger. I've never been afraid of my mother, until the day I told her I had cancer. Of course she wasn't angry about me being sick, it was the fact that I had, first, decided not to have treatment, that I just gave up without trying, that I then, had decided to have the treatment and hadn't even told them about it. That it took my panic over choking in my own vomit was the reason that I actually called them. 

Usually when my mother gets angry, she actually looks pretty funny, she is this tiny human being with red hair and whenever she gets angry, which isn't very often, her face turns exactly the same shade of red as her hair, which in turn makes her look like a tomato in clothes. I watched my mother stressfully walking from the door to my bed over and over again, seemingly trying to figure out how to get me out of the situation. By the time they'd left she hadn’t found a way for me not to have cancer. 

While my mother had cried and yelled, my father had sat next to the bed as well, being uncharacteristically quiet. At a certain point he had put his big hand on my mother’s elbow and told her to sit and calm down. In the end there would be nothing she could do about it, the situation was the way it was and she had no say in it. When I looked him in the eyes I saw the tears in his eyes but I also saw apprehension. In that moment I figured his heart was probably broken by the news but at least he was realistic about the situation. In the end there was nothing they could do. 

When my parents left they both gave me careful hugs, afraid of bruising me and in a way I wished they’d given me tight hugs that showed me how much they loved me. I didn’t care much about the bruises, I was one big ass bruise anyway. For the first time in years they both told me they loved me without me saying it first, which made me wonder whether they’d say it every single time I left them because it might be the last time they’d see me. They told me they'd come by the next day.

May crawled by very slowly and I spent most of my days in bed, the only variation in my hospital routine were the moments I was forced out of bed because the nurses had to take me to the hospital gym. It wasn't a gym really. It was more of a revalidation center where mostly old people recovering from broken hips walked between bridges while being gently encouraged by big muscled men. I thought it was funny, to see those big men who were supposed to be working at one of the many gyms in town, being all gentle and polite with the elderly. 

They pushed me harder than the grandmothers and grandfathers and seemed to enjoy doing it. Every afternoon after my chemo therapy during the first ten days and then every morning after my induction phase treatment had ended, I had an appointment with my personal trainer, Art. The guy was all right, albeit a little firm when it came to working out. He was tall and muscled and flirted all the way through my sessions. I didn't flirt back once. I didn't have the strength. Having cancer had been tiring, but having chemo to fight the cancer was a whole other level of tiresome. It was exhausting. 

Besides it being exhausting, there were a whole lot of other things involved in having chemo. Obviously there was the puking, which was gross and annoying. There was also a lot of sweating involved. I didn't know a person could sweat as much as I had during those four weeks. Pretty soon after the chemo had started soars had started popping up everywhere in my mouth, which made eating painful and difficult. Soon, I started to lose more weight. One of the things I wasn't looking forward to, obviously was the prospect of losing my hair. Still it was inevitable so I asked my mother to get in touch with an old friend of hers who was a hairdresser specialized in wigs. I wore dreads anyway so I figured I could get a wig that would resemble my usual hair style.

He arrived during the fifth day of my chemo and I asked him whether he could make a wig out of my own hair. He told me he could and in a way that was at least some sort of accomplishment, I might be bald one day soon but at least I'd be keeping my own freaking hair. I had never been one to experiment with hair so it would be weird if I suddenly showed up with a blond coupe instead of my own brown. The hair-doctor measured my head and had to come back once to measure my head again but before I was released from the hospital I was the proud owner of a wig, consisting most of my own hair. 

There was the loss of eyebrows as well but I had already figured out I'd tell anyone who'd ask I'd lost a bet and that I had to shave off my eyebrows. It would do for now. I'd draw them in the meantime, it wasn’t anything I hadn’t done before, and hoped people wouldn't notice they weren't growing back anytime soon. Obviously there were many more troubling moments during my first weeks of treatment. I wouldn’t want to bore anyone to death with the details. All in all it was a boring month during which I slept often, exercised more than I ever had in my life. There was a lot of research, there was a long period during which I was watched very closely because I was very susceptible for infections and infections were bad for me because my immune system was for shit after the chemo sessions. Chemo basically killed everything inside you that was bad, but also everything that was good. 

There were several bags of all kinds of stuff hooked onto my central line, blood, chemo, fluids, eventually food when eating had become too difficult. It was all very dishonoring and I regretted my decision of having chemo more than a dozen times per minute. Every time I noticed I was feeling sorry for myself I thought about the movie and that made me feel a little better. Not always though, sometimes it made me hate myself even more.

In May I was officially too busy with having cancer to contact my friends and while in April I had replied to most of their messages (despite being ‘busy’ with work), in May I felt too freaking exhausted to even lift my phone, let alone type messages or talk for half an hour. That left most, if not all of my received messages and calls unanswered. My mother asked me repeatedly why I hadn't told anyone about my disease but her and my father and I could do nothing but tell her the same thing over and over again, I wasn't ready to face the truth of my disease. Which, to a certain point was true, but there was more to it. I was terribly afraid of the way my friends might start treating me differently. The thought of them looking at me with pity in their eyes made my skin crawl. I was a proud person and losing twenty pounds when your BMI is already below average is not something that makes you feel good about yourself. The closest thing to describing how I felt is probably a walking skeleton covered with skin. 

Where before I had been sort-of-attractive-I-guess, when looking in the mirror nowadays, the best way to describe myself was quite the opposite of attractive. Disgusting, repulsive, repellent were words that came to mind rather than pretty. Whenever I stood in front of the mirror naked, staring at my white, almost translucent skin, my bones sticking out of my skin in the strangest ways. It made me want to die. Not even the way the chemo made me feel so weak I couldn't get out of bed for days, not even the way it made me feel nauseous all day long or the way my nausea made me puke so very often. It was looking at myself in the mirror and seeing this person that in a disconcerting way looked like me, yet at the same time I stood there looking at a complete stranger, this person, this hideous creature, eyes sunken deep into their sockets, cheeks hollow, it wasn't me, it couldn't be me, could it? But then I'd pinch myself and it would hurt, a bruise would appear almost the second my fingers let go of my arm and I would know it was me who I was looking at. All I wanted at moments like that was for it all to end. 

When June started, day twenty-one was reached, the day during which they would research my bone marrow to see if the induction phase had been successful. It hadn't been as successful as we (the doctors and my parents and me) had hoped and I would need another round of induction therapy. The only good news of that day had been the fact that I had a break between day twenty-one and the next round of induction chemo. I could go home for more than two weeks. Obviously there would be plenty of things to remind me that I wasn’t done with having cancer yet (like pills and regular check-ups) but still, not having chemo made that I had slowly started to feel a little bit better. 

The day I got to go home my mother packed me a suitcase and took me home with her to the other side of town, the suburbs, which didn't really count as a city anymore, obviously. I'd stay with my parents for a couple of days, not because I wanted to, but because I couldn't have gone home even if I wanted to. During those days my mother watched me like a hawk, she took care of me like a professional nurse, which she wasn't, and treated me like a daughter who was about to die. She basically gave me everything I needed and wanted. It was nice for a couple of days, but soon it became a bit much. 

A side effect of having had chemo was that it made me very tired, so there were surprisingly no rules for sleeping like when I had been younger and still living with my parents. I had to wake up at nine every single day, no matter if I had nowhere to be that day, no matter if I'd gone out the night before and had gone to bed at eight a.m., I wasn’t going to waste my time in bed. Well, that rule no longer applied, my mother actually got kind of angry if I got out of bed before eleven o’clock. I needed my rest and had to take it whenever I could. That meant afternoon naps, after dinner naps and let me tell you one thing, I absolutely love naps. So, I guess, there was a benefit to having cancer, it was like an all-you-can-sleep-buffet. 

Still, after a few days of being treated like someone with cancer, I begged my father to talk my mother into letting me go home for the remaining time. Surprisingly enough she came in that evening and told me she would allow me to go home for the remaining days, which would be nice break from my sweet and kind but very fussy parents, nurses and doctors (who absolutely weren't fussy, but more distant and matter-of-factly). My mother would watch me shower and even pee if I allowed her. I didn't. 

Somewhere during the afternoon of my official release from my parent's house I went home and slept the night away, only to wake up on the morning of my best friend’s annual and famous dinner-party. I woke up earlier than usual and when I turned around in my bed I found out it was only nine in the morning. Since I knew it was going to be a very long day, I decided to stay in bed for another while and eventually fell asleep again. The second time I woke up that day, the clocked told me it was half an hour before noon. Ever since I had started chemo, my nights (and often days as well) were spent rather uncomfortably, I felt feverish most of the time, even when I didn’t have a fever. Sometimes I did have one, which lead to me sweating, a lot, as in, really A LOT. My average of used, sweaty t-shirts that ended up in a heap next to the bed per night was five. 

At a certain point my mother had become so annoyed with having to wash so many t-shirts every single day that she wanted me to sleep without a t-shirt or to re-use my sweaty ones once they had dried up. If there is one thing worse than waking up in a sweat-soaked t-shirt, it’s waking up in sweat-soaked sheets and no way I'd sleep half naked in the hospital. So I told her I’d wash the damn t-shirts myself if I had to but I would NOT I repeat NOT re-use sweat-soaked T-shirts. My mother eventually gave up and washed the damned T-shirts. Another benefit of having cancer I guess, people didn’t really want to start a fight because you might suddenly die and your last conversation would be about not wanting to wash your nasty T-shirts.

Each morning since my chemo had begun, started off practically the same. I woke up, felt tired and fed up with the world, yet I propped myself up into a sitting position, sat staring out of the window for about a quarter of an hour (ignored the many nurses that came in and went out of my room), whilst preparing myself for the day and for getting out of bed and into the shower. Then I’d get out, sway on my feet as I walked all the way to the shower (only about fifteen feet in the hospital and twenty at my parent's place), sat down on the plastic chair that had been put there because standing on my feet for longer than five minutes that early in the morning was just too damn exhausting. 

After my usual sitting-for-fifteen-minutes-in-the-shower session, I got dressed into a pair of oversized sweatpants and an equally oversized sweater, which made me look even thinner than I already was, it was time for breakfast. Now that was something I missed, my mother preparing and bringing me breakfast every single morning. Not just a bowl of cereal or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. No, she made me a fruit smoothie of which the fruit varied every single day, she cooked an egg, baked bread, I’m not joking about the bread, and put a delicious, layer of Nutella spread on it. That layer became thicker the more weight I lost. Obviously I didn’t complain. Benefit number three. 

After moving back home, which kind of felt like I was on a holiday in my own house, I was back to my usual breakfast, but only after a one hour lasting after-shower-nap on the couch. Breakfast consisted of soy yoghurt, vanilla flavored, because it’s the best, with a banana and some strawberries, blackberries and blueberries. Still had to eat healthily of course. With that I had a cup of tea and a glass of freshly pressed orange juice. By the time I sat back down on the couch, I was almost ready for another nap. Instead I turned on my laptop, illegally downloaded some series (which made me feel like a pirate) and ate while I waited for the newest The 100 and Game of Thrones episode to be a hundred percent. The 100 was done first, I plugged a cable from my TV into my laptop and was able to watch the series on my television while I still worked hard to get all of my breakfast inside of me. It was quite the struggle. Not feeling hungry versus the knowledge that calories and vitamins were the reason I would be able to make it through the day without fainting or falling asleep mid-conversation. It was a serious internal battle. 

It was a hot-cold day, of which I’d been having a lot lately. Shivering one moment and being covered by a sheen of sweat the next. It always made me worry about having a fever so as usual I checked my temperature and as usual I had no fever, just a beautiful 98.8 degrees that gave me a feeling of great relief each and every time I stared at the little display. Getting sick while having cancer is a definite no-go. 

After a Game of Thrones episode of epicness, I fell asleep again and woke up about an hour and a half later because my phone was ringing. A low growl worked its way up from my throat all the way out of my mouth as I sat upright and answered. It was my mother, checking in on whether I was doing all right. 

My mother had promised me to check in on me exactly three times a day, at ten in the morning by text message, to which I was required to answer or she’d get worried and start calling, or worse, come by my house. It was one of the terms I’d had to agree upon, or otherwise she wouldn’t have let me go home. The second check-in was by phoning me around four and again by text message at nine. 

My mom asked me about my plans for that day and I carefully lied about going to bed early 'because I’d be dead on my feet around nine anyway'. She agreed it was a wise decision and wished me a good day after asking once again whether or not she should come over to cook for me. She’d seriously tuck me into bed if I allowed her. I didn’t, feeling at least five years too old for that. 

It was only then that I realized I was supposed to buy two bottles of Scotch. Luckily there was a liquor store two blocks away, a lively two-minute walk if you didn’t have cancer, an exhausting five minutes if you did. Guess into which category I fell. 

Going out required careful preparation, a backpack containing a wallet, my phone in my pocket, mom on speed dial in case something happened. The optimist inside me continuously yelled, ‘you’re strong, go on you cancer-woman. Let’s do this’. Yet the pessimist begged me to remain at home. A promise was a promise though and I couldn’t afford to lose more credit with my friends.

Funny thing though is that when people find our you have cancer, they suddenly start acting totally different toward you. Suddenly misbehavior is tolerated, to a certain height of course, but still, I hadn’t told my parents about having cancer, which was kind of a big deal, yet the moment they found out they obviously couldn’t be very angry, I had cancer after all. The doctor, the nurses, the people in the hospital, whenever I started swearing and show insubordinate behavior, they just let it go and looked at me with these looks in their eyes, as if I were already dead. Well motherfuckers, I’m still walking here, still sort-of going strong. What I liked about my friends not knowing about my illness was that they still give me a hard time, they did get angry with me and it might be weird but I enjoyed their anger. It made me feel normal, like everybody else. 

That evening was my best friend’s annual dinner-slash-birthday-party but I’d been working on staying alive and I literally hadn't spoken to anyone in a month. My friends were used to me disappearing for a week or two regularly but never a whole month so I had to make it up to them. My best friend Sarah had told me (by text-message) I could only come if I brought not one but two bottles of expensive scotch, Blue Label of course, not the cheap kind. 

So after leaving the pleasant company of myself in my apartment, I quickly made my way into the liquor store and was about to head home straight after when I passed a Starbucks. As had happened often during the past few months, I had found myself being rather tired and in need of a small break so I could get my breathing and sweating under control again. The Starbucks was only a small one and counted ten chairs, two couches, six small tables and a counter behind which exactly one barista stood preparing crappy coffee. Luckily it wasn’t as crowded as usual so I made my way inside, hoping I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew. When I had woken up that morning I’d put on some sweatpants and a sweater because my plan had been only to go to the liquor store for ten minutes, after which I’d go home again and sleep for a couple of hours before showering and getting ready for the party. Exercising was something I hadn't done much since going home. Art would be so disappointed in me.

The good thing about Starbucks, and yes there is basically only one good thing about the Starbucks franchise, is the coffee-flavored-frappuccino. They are officially the best treat in the world of mankind and they, in general, make me a very contented woman. Since I was able to eat basically anything I wanted, I’d already lost over ten pounds, I ordered a large one, with whipped cream. I even kind of asked for a little bit extra whipped cream. The guy behind the counter either didn't care or thought I was a little on the skinny side, because he gave me so much whipped cream it spilled over the plastic-see-through lid. When the guy handed me my treat I felt like a little child and acted like it, my eyes grew big, a grin spread on my face. I turned around in order to sit down and enjoy about fifteen minutes of down-time when I was literally hit by a hurricane. 

Now that would have been tragic, perhaps I should have said figuratively because the hurricane in this case was a woman, not a strangely shaped clutter of wind that tugged at your hair and made you want to hold on to, well, anything. Still, this woman was my personal hurricane and the result of her 'hitting' me was that the entire frappuccino ended up covering my beautiful grey, best-color-ever-to-have-frappuccino-spilled-on-NOT, sweatpants and equally grey sweater. I kind of looked like a group of twenty babies had pooped all over me. Believe me when I say, it wasn't pretty. Where the woman had been quick enough to jump back, my traitorous body had been too slow to even blink, let alone step back three inches. 

“Ah, well, crap,” was all I could get out in a weak voice. Getting excited over frappuccino was apparently very exhausting after the day I’d had. 

The woman looked down at the ground, where the remainder of frappuccino lay wasted on the floor. Such a shame. Her eyes had grown big, her mouth wide open in shock. Then, she looked up and when her eyes reached my newly attained stain, she had to cover her mouth with her hand in order to hide the grin that was now spreading on her face. 

“Oh merde, je m’excuse, I’m so sorry,” she said, laughter bubbling up through her words as she looked me up and down and saw my entire grey outfit turned into a blur of brown crunched ice and whipped cream. I was literally covered from head to toe and could feel drops of the sticky stuff covering my face and wig. I had become a frappuccino.

I wasn’t sure what to say, my body wasn't the only part of me that had become slow over the course of the day, so had my brain. Once upon a time I used to be witty and occasionally, I was even sort of funny. Well, not right then. I stood there, my mouth open, staring, feeling like the biggest moron on the planet.

“I sure do hope you don’t have to be anywhere anytime soon because you look like well, a frappuccino,” she said, her voice thick with a French accent. Not the accent that makes you want to cringe each time you hear it, more the kind of French undertone that made you long to hear more. It made me wonder where she was from, France or Canada or some other place where they spoke French as a first language. 

When I looked up into her eyes, trying to make sense of her words, I noticed they were the most beautiful shade of brown I had ever seen in my life.

At seeing her something happened unexpectedly, a surge of energy made its way through my body, starting at my heart and radiating outward to the top of my head, the tips of my fingers and the tips of my toes. Everything inside suddenly burned with a need to jump up and down, to go running five miles, which was odd, I never even ran when I needed to catch a train or a bus. Looking into her eyes made my heart burn with an unfamiliar fire. 

She, I realized, made me feel alive. Which was something I had never really felt in my life. I’d always been living but not really LIVING, if you know what I mean. That morning I’d realized just that, ever since I’d been sixteen years old I’d been writing movie and series scripts, trying to become a successful script-writer, which had led to me neglecting what was considered normal, dating, falling in love, clubbing, hanging out with friends, experimenting. I had never even really lived, according to normal standards and now I was going to die and there wasn’t even enough time left to do all of those silly things. 

Suddenly, with my burst of energy, my brain finally kicked in as well and I looked down at my clothes, putting on a fake frown as I lifted my frozen sweater away from my skin. “Well I had a job interview in ten minutes. Not anymore though,” I said, murmuring the last few words so it would seem more real. 

For a long moment she looked puzzled as she looked me up and down carefully, then a grin appeared on her face again. "You’re joking right?”

I shook my head. "No, why would I be joking?”

Her smile faltered as she tried to find a way to answer without being rude it seemed, replying in a small and uncertain voice. "You’re wearing sweatpants and a sweater.”

I blinked a couple of times, trying to be as convincing as possible. I never were much of an actress so I had to focus in order to keep on a straight face. 

"I'm aware, I’m the one who put them on this very afternoon. But without the stain I looked good right?"

She stared, eyes wide open, mouth agape. "Sure, but," she was officially at a loss for words and looked a bit like a lost puppy. She reminded me of the blond Labrador we used to have when I was a child, Trevor, he had been my best friend in the world.

Suddenly, perhaps because I thought of Trevor and comparing her to him, I couldn’t keep a straight face any longer and I burst into laughter. Which confused her even more it seemed. She looked truly embarrassed as her cheeks flushed a bright red while averting her gaze.

"I’m sorry, it was just really easy to mess with you.”

Her gaze moved back to my eyes and for along moment she stared at me hard, question marks still in her eyes. "So no job interview?”

"No job interview," I winked.

The woman exhaled like a large burden fell away from her shoulders, she laughed then, a bright and sincere laugh that sounded pleasant and warm.

She extended her hand and caught my eye again. "Delphine.”

I took her hand into mine, fully aware that my hand was cold, yet sweaty. "Cosima.”

"Enchante.”

"Likewise." 

I decided I was a big fan of listening to people speaking English with a French accent but speaking French myself was a definite no-go, my pronunciation was for shit, or so had my high school French teacher told me many times so I decided to stick to English.

"Ladies, when you’re done flirting, I’ve got some towels for you and a new frappuccino," the guy behind the counter, same guy as before, said to us, sounding an looking bored. His comment proved to me he wasn't straight. Straight guys at least would have looked fascinated.

I could feel blood rushing upward to my face. I hadn’t been flirting, had I? Not on purpose anyway. Delphine looked equally embarrassed, her cheeks again red as she tried to avoid my and the barista's eyes. She again focused on my stain.

I fake-smiled at the guy behind the counter as I accepted the towels and my new frappuccino, mumbling a 'thanks'. First I wiped myself clean, well I wiped away the whipped cream mostly, the rest of the icy deliciousness had soaked through my clothes, clinging to my skin, making me feel cold. 

"There's still some on your face," Delphine said, taking the towel from my hand as she took a step closer, wiping at some drops of crunched ice or clots of whipped cream. 

I smiled at the woman standing so closely in front of me and she smiled back at me, a gentle smile that sort of lifted my heart, like whenever you see something that completely restores your faith into humanity. An example could be a huge, dangerous-looking, tattooed man on a motor cycle lifting a tiny, blond kid who’s all giggles and smiles at being lifted into the air so high. 

"Let me make it up to you, if you're not too cold?”

I was, but found myself saying, "I'm fine,” instead.

"All right, so what can I get you, how about something to eat with your tiny frappuccino?” 

A smirk appeared on her face and I chuckled in genuine delight. “I'm all right, this unit should be just enough. You can make it up to me by sitting with me for a moment.” 

Delphine ordered a cappuccino, which seriously made me doubt her taste in coffee. After paying and receiving it, I gestured for my companion to lead the way, she walked all the way to the back of the room where she found us an empty leather couch. We both sat down, me sitting with my leg folded under my leg so I could face Delphine. She stared at me curiously, like she was trying to figure out whether she had seen me before. I stared back long and hard until she spoke in a gentle tone. “What?” 

I'd been staring at her hair. She had to have the most beautiful hair I had ever seen in my life, thick, blonde curls that nearly reached her shoulders, they were just drop-dead-gorgeous. I have a serious thing for beautiful hair, call it a bit of a fetish, I’m not ashamed of it. 

"You have beautiful hair," I said, making Delphine smile shyly before she bit her full lower lip.

"Wow, didn't see that one coming. Merci, I like your smile, now that we're throwing it all out there.” 

I grinned a little, feeling suddenly shy at her compliment. I was acting like a full-on-moron but wasn't exactly sure why. This was just a woman, an attractive woman sure but when had I ever liked any woman more than just as a friend. Still, there was something about her, something that made my heart race. Perhaps it was the way she took me in with an intensity that I had never seen in anyone's eyes before, perhaps it was in the way she radiated energy. Perhaps it was the way she made me feel. Perhaps, it was something else entirely. I realized I didn't know nor care. 

"So, where were you off to, for real?" Delphine asked. 

"Back home, just had to go out and buy something real quick before the shops closed, hence my outfit, you?”

"Oui, moi aussi, quick errant,” she gestured at the bags next to her. 

"So where are you from, France, Canada?"

"Is my accent that obvious?” 

I grinned. "A little, so, tell me, which one?”

"Neither. Well, I was born in Belgium, in a small town and went to Paris to study after, high school is how you call it I guess.”

"What did you study?”

"Languages.”

"Which ones?”

"Spanish, English, Portuguese, Norwegian, Swedish and German.” 

I stared at Delphine, incredulous. That was amazing. "Holy shit, you speak seven languages?”

"Eight, I also speak Dutch, it's a Belgian thing, being a bilingual country and all.” 

"Why the hell do you speak so many languages? It's insane.”

"I'm a translator so I kind of need to speak as many languages as possible, makes me more attractive as a translator," she laughed.

I nodded. "That makes sense.” 

"What do you do?”

“I am a script writer,” I said. Not for long though. That thought made me cringe inwardly. Not for long Cosima. 

“Really, anything I might know?” she asked, looking genuinely intrigued. 

I thought about that for a moment, I’d written several movies and series. I mentioned a couple of projects I’d worked on. 

“Seriously, you wrote Letters From the Sky and Dreams AND Lives Are Now, those movies are insanely good,” Delphine said, with huge eyes. 

“Thanks, I’m just very thankful that they got picked up.” 

Delphine smiled. "Can imagine, how long have you been working as a script writer, professionally I mean?” 

"Ever since I finished high school I guess, immediately went to college and studied writing, a few of my scripts got picked up during my first year so I studied and wrote at the same time for four years until I finished my education.”

"Wow, you're lucky, that usually doesn't happen does it?”

"I guess not," I said, smiling only a little, as much luck as I'd had with my work, as little luck did I have in real life so far. "So, what are you translating right now and into which of the many languages you speak?" I added, turning the focus back on the woman next to me.

"Did you read Repeating the Past from Gemma Horner by any chance?”

"Not that I know of no.”

"Well, I'm working on that book right now and I have to translate them into French, Dutch, Norwegian and Swedish.”

"Holy fuck, how long does that take you?”

"I have about a month and a half do to all four.”

"Are you fucking kidding me, that's insane, how long do you work?” 

Delphine laughed. "Depends on the day but the good thing is that I can basically work anywhere I like, always have my laptop with me so that's nice.” 

"I do that too, I like going to places where I get extra inspired, makes me a better writer.” 

"I can imagine. I would love to see you write one day.” 

"Maybe one day," I offered and we both smiled a little sheepishly. 

She stared at me for a long moment, her eyes taking me in intensely, I stared back into her brown eyes and realized something beside her presence giving me strength, she made me feel at ease. That kind of at ease you feel when you're with your best friend who you've known your entire life, or that's what it feels like to be with my bestie, we are just really comfortable around each other, we know that we can say everything and act stupid without making a complete fool out of ourselves. It felt like I had known this woman my entire life, seen her smile a million times. It was nice to feel that way. And rather unexpected. It was the unexpectedness of the situation, of meeting this person, that had me rattled a little bit. 

"Hey question, I know we don't know each other but would you perhaps like to go somewhere with me someday, you know, to hang out?" Delphine then asked, looking up at me with uncertain eyes. 

For a moment I sat and suddenly, at hearing that specific question something inside me snapped as realization welled up. Life and reality seemed to catch up with me. This girl wanted to be friends with me, or she wanted to start something that might very well end up as a friendship. The ease with which we spoke to each other was something I didn't often encounter with new people so I could see some sort of future friendship enveloping without having to think about it too hard. At the same time I realized that it wouldn't be fair to say yes to her now, if we'd hang out and we'd have fun we'd hang out again and again and probably again. I wouldn't tell her about my cancer, not straight away anyway. That wasn't a way to start a friendship. What if I died without telling her. 

Without realizing it I had gotten up off my seat and was now standing, facing Delphine who still sat, looking up at me, her eyes focused on me intently, she was frowning a little. "Is something wrong?”

"I have to go, I’m sorry, we can’t be friends," I said and got up, stalking out of the Starbucks without looking back. Even though I desperately felt the need to look back, I denied myself the satisfaction. My house was just a one-and-a-half minute stroll to my house but I ran all the way. Only once I arrived back home I realised I had totally forgotten about my frappuccino. I was lucky to have taken my bag and my bottles of Scotch. 

When I opened my door I realized I was sweating profoundly and that I was winded and gasping for air. My physical condition was not what it was supposed to be, even after all the exercising I'd done at the hospital. Then I thought about how it would even get worse and my mood sank. Again I realized I wished I’d stayed and given Delphine my phone number, perhaps if everything had been different, if I hadn’t been diagnosed with leukaemia we could have been great friends. A thought in the back of my head made me frown. I wished I could get to know her, for real.


	3. THREE

The taxi arrived at Sarah’s apartment at seven, which meant I was half an hour late. Fashionably late as I would have happily announced a couple of years back because I’d been standing in front of the mirror for too long. Now I was afraid to stand in front of the mirror, because looking at myself made me think of death, my once feminine body was already losing its curves and soon I would be nothing more than a bunch of bones stacked together, forming a human body, held together by the few muscles that were still there, a nerve system that still functioned but only barely. Everything would be held together by skin and beneath that skin, through my many veins, streamed the cancerous blood that was going to be the death of me one day. 

That cancerous blood was the reason for my being late that day. After my adventure at the Starbucks I had gone home, changed into a very comfortable onesie and plopped down on the couch where I had spent exactly five minutes thinking about meeting Delphine that afternoon. It had left me feeling shaken and not because of my illness, It was the way she had looked at me, the way she had given this energy-boost, it was something I hadn’t felt in a long while, maybe even ever. 

The meeting itself had drained me completely and I had fallen asleep for a couple of hours, dreaming again and again about meeting Delphine and stupidly walking away from her without so much as finding out her phone number, which was totally my fault. I had never regretted anything more than stalking out of the Starbucks that afternoon. 

Anyway, I had fallen asleep without setting an alarm, so when I had woken up at six-o-five, I figured I’d be late, I needed a shower in order to clean the layer of sweatiness off my body that had formed during the jog home and then the second layer of sweat that had formed during my restless sleep on the couch, after which I needed to get dressed and get myself a taxi during rush hour. 

After climbing several flights of stairs, I sort of ran all the way to the fifth floor because I always figured being somewhere thirty seconds earlier made everything better, I took a moment to catch my breath before I actually knocked on the door, all the while hoping that I was indeed the last one to arrive at Sarah’s dinner party. Arriving to see your friend standing in the hallway, bending over at the waist while using an arm for support while trying to find back a normal breathing rhythm, was kind of awkward. When I was sort of back to normal after four minutes I knocked.

My best friend in the entire world opened the door and started grinning the moment she laid eyes on me. She opened her arms and gave me a hug so tight it gave me immediate bruises. It made me wonder what my body would look like in a couple of hours. At the same time I felt guilty for not having told my best friend about what was happening in my life. She deserved to know but I was so afraid of the way she would look at me, the way she might suddenly start treating me like I was a person dying from cancer. Oh wait, that was exactly what was happening. 

“You look terrible babe, what’s been going on?” Sarah asked me gently when she held me at arm’s length, looking me up and down. 

Her words made me cringe a little and I flashed a fake apologetic smile. “Tot a little caught up in my work”. 

“You work too hard, always have always will. Come on in, let me feed you, oh, by the way, there’s some people I want you to meet. I made some new friends, they’re pretty awesome, I think you will like them.” 

"There's been a change in the annual dinner party invite list?" I asked, faking shock.

Sarah laughed a little. "I guess so.”

"They must be so special.”

"Screw you.”

"You screwing them?”

"No, fuck off.”

We both laughed and I followed the brunette inside and into the hallway where she took my oversized-retro-denim jacket before guiding me into the living room where a large table was already set and surrounded by people. The entire living room was filled with the sound of voices and laughter and for a moment it was all very overwhelming. I had to close my eyes and calm my heartbeat before I was ready to face the group of people in front of me. There was room for ten people around that table and there were only two empty chairs, which meant I was indeed the last one to arrive. My eyes glided over the table, most of my friends were there, looking back at me with concern in their eyes. I’d put on an extra sweater under my black one so I would look at least a little fuller but of course it didn’t matter, my cheeks were already turning hollow, my cheekbones were becoming very pronounced, my eyes lay sunken deeper into their sockets than they were supposed to. The little skin that was visible, face, neck and hands, was paler than normal, which frankly speaking, looked a little unhealthy, like I hadn’t seen the sun in a year. In a matter of months or even weeks I’d look even worse. 

At that moment, with all of my friends looking at me like that, I realised I had to tell them, they deserved to know that I was sick. A smile worked its way onto my face as I sort of half waved at my friends. “Hi guys.” 

Everyone had quieted down the moment I had entered the room and they still sat staring at me. Their joined silence had to be some sort of record. My eyes roamed past the faces of my friends, to the other side of the table where two women sat staring as well. One I remembered vaguely from a picture Sarah had posted on Facebook a couple weeks back, the woman next to her I had seen that very day while being covered with sticky-ice-cold-frappuccino-and-whipped-cream. My smile faltered at the sight of her while she looked at me with a smirk on her face. I had expected to find surprise on her face or even shock but there was none to be found. 

My heart picked up its pace and I realized I was more than happy that she was here and not all the way out of my life. I carefully glanced at Delphine’s face, trying to find a sign of anger or resentment. There was none either, if anything, she continued to smirk as she winked at me. That wink almost gave me a heart-attack. 

Where the hell was all of this coming from?

At that moment, I threw my plan of telling my friends about my cancer out of the window. Not only because there was someone at the table I'd never met in my life and who didn’t ‘deserve’ to hear about my hardships, but also because of the woman sitting next to her. I didn't want Delphine to know I was dying. Seeing her here at this table, in this familiar living room, it felt like a second chance and if I'd bring up having cancer everything would change in an instant. The thought of Delphine looking at me like suddenly I was a person with cancer made me feel sick to the stomach.

After a relieved sigh, I went around the table, saying hello to everyone, introducing myself to the unfamiliar woman who turned out to be Delphine’s best friend Jordan, kissing everyone on the cheek except for Jordan, whose hand I shook. While I made my way around the table, I wondered whether it would be appropriate to kiss Delphine on the cheek or just weird. Finally when I reached her, I decided to just go for it so I bent down and kissed her on the cheek once. She smelled like she was freshly showered, she wore perfume, but not the overwhelming kind, it was probably the nicest smelling perfume I had ever smelled in my life. There was a faint trace of smoke hanging around her and her hair smelled of hairspray, the good, expensive kind. The combination of all scents was alluring, making me slightly dizzy and I had to grab on to her shoulder to stay upright. My body was acting weird. She looked up at me in worry. 

“You smell nice,” I murmured so no one would hear, making her smile though the worried look in her eyes didn’t entirely disappear. 

I finished saying hi to the rest of my friends and ironically enough, the only chair left to sit on was the one next to Delphine. It was Sarah’s late-comers chair and it was uncomfortable as hell but I found myself not minding, I always ended up sitting on that chair, we'd become friends over the years. 

I sat down next to Delphine and she faced me with a grin on her face. "We meet again.” 

"I guess we do.”

"Just so you know, I'm not going to let you run off like that again, I was lucky to realize who you were just in time and that you were going to be here otherwise I would have had to run after you like a crazy stalker person.” 

I stared into the brown eyes that this very afternoon had gotten me so worked up. "You knew, how?” 

Delphine shrugged "Not a lot of people are called Cosima, I recognized your name from Sarah's stories, but didn't realize it until fully until you actually walked out without your frappuccino and I saw your last name on it, Niehaus, that name was familiar and then I remembered you saying dinner party so I figured you were going to be there. It was a bit of a stretch, but even if you hadn't been here I would have found you, even if I'd had to ask Sarah.” 

A smirk appeared on my face and I felt kind of flattered someone would go through the trouble of asking Sarah to actually find me. It made me wonder what Sarah would have said to Delphine. 

"I feel flattered that you would go through the trouble to find me.”

Delphine looked into my eyes intently. "Some people are worth the trouble.” 

A shiver travelled all the way from my neck, down my spine when she looked at me like that, her brown eyes sparkling and catching the reflection of the many candles that were lit in the room. I swallowed and everything quieted down around us. 

"Cosima, help me in the kitchen," Sarah suddenly said, making me jerk upright, almost knocking over the dinner table in the process. 

"Sure, sure" I murmured and got up, making my way to the kitchen where Sarah leaned against the kitchen counter, her hands were folded together and she frowned at me. 

"What?”

"How do you know Delphine?”

"We met today, she bumped into my frappuccino and we talked some.”

Sarah looked disapprovingly and said nothing for at least fifteen seconds, her eyebrows still creased into a deep frown. "She's not a lesbian you know.” 

I chuckled. "So what, more than half of the people at this table are straight-ish.” 

"But you are not.”

"I'm aware.”

"She is.”

I folded my arms impatiently. "What the fuck is your point?”

Sarah snorted and shook her head like I was a little girl who had just been caught with her hand down the cookie jar. 

"God, you're clueless sometimes.” 

"What?”

"Nevermind. Delphine's great, don't hurt her.”

I frowned at my best friend and wondered what else this was all about, perhaps the fact that I hadn't contacted her in over a month. If that were her reason for getting angry over Delphine, I kind of understood. Still, I wasn't going to get into the topic, not here, not now, not with the rest of my friends and of course Delphine in the next room. She couldn't know about any of it. The thought of Delphine’s playful eyes suddenly turning grave and pitying whenever she looked at me, just thinking about it for a freaking second made nausea take over my body again so I pushed the thoughts away into a far corner. 

“Hadn’t planned on it,” I murmured. 

I helped Sarah with the first course and by helping I mean I made sure all the vegetables were washed properly because unwashed fruits and vegetables could lead to infections. Helping Sarah made up at least a little for my bad-friend behaviour, afterward she could again smile at me, even if it was just a tenth of the usual smile she gave me. How I hated lying to her, to any of them. I often wondered whether I was being protective or just selfish. I liked to think I was being protective of my friends' feelings by not telling them they would lose their friend to cancer within the year, but naturally I was aware that my reasons were mostly selfish, wanting to avoid sad looks and careful behaviour around me. I liked receiving bear-hugs from my friends, even though I knew I would have the bruises to prove I couldn’t quite handle them. 

The first and main course were eaten pretty quickly and though I wasn’t particularly hungry I did my best to finish and enjoy it all. After the main course Delphine announced she would be going out for a smoke. Since this party was probably going to be one of the last evening during which I’d get to be with my friends like this I had beforehand decided that this would be an evening during which I’d drink and smoke and not think about my future. Soon I’d have to give up smoking and drinking but tonight I could enjoy both without feeling guilty about it. I’d die anyway, a couple of drinks and cigarettes more tonight wouldn’t matter much anymore anyway. I got up after Delphine, with whom I’d been having the greatest of times. We'd spoken freely about practically everything there was to talk about and it was all so comfortable, without awkward pauses, without a moment of not knowing what to say. We just talked the night away. 

In a way, it felt like the rest of the people were just props, people that were there but didn’t really matter. They were our background noise but the evening revolved around us, we were the ones that mattered. Perhaps, in a way, that was exactly the way it was, for us at least. We interacted with the rest but only a little here and there and always as a pair, two against eight. The rest noticed of course but they let it slide for some reason, throwing knowing looks our way and smiling while keeping quiet. I decided to ignore all of it. 

We walked outside onto the balcony and Delphine leaned against the railing, her legs crossed. She got out a pack of cigarettes and offered me one, I took it out of habit and rolled it over and over in my hands for a couple of seconds. Normally I’d be smoking marijuana, but I found that smoking made my body feel good in the moment, it was definitely a pain-reliever, yet when the effects were fading away, my body felt worse than it did before. I had therefore given up smoking altogether.

I could feel her eyes taking me in, watching my every move. I heard the familiar click of a lighter, the sound of tobacco burning and turning to ash. Delphine offered me her lighter and I held it in my hand for a moment without lighting my own cigarette. 

“Do you even smoke?”

I shrugged. “No, I guess I don't.” 

“So, why don’t they know you don't smoke?” 

“We haven’t seen each other during the past couple of weeks.”

Delphine nodded, like she knew exactly what I was talking about. “Sarah told me she couldn’t reach you the past couple of weeks, she is worried about you.” 

I shrugged and felt blood rush to my cheeks. I said nothing, unsure of what to say to the woman standing in front of me.

“I know you don’t really know me but if you want, you can talk to me, I am a good listener and I promise I won’t tell any of them about it. If you don’t want to because you feel like you don’t know me, I respect that, just know that I’m here. You don’t have to decide right now, just think about it oui?” Delphine offered, a gentle smile upon her face as she took one of my hands in hers and squeezed. 

My heart warmed at her words, they'd been sincere and I really appreciated them. “Thank you.”

Delphine smiled. “I really want to hug you now, just so you know.”

I looked up in surprise, then smiled a small smile. “I give you permission to hug me.”

That made her chuckle and while she pulled me close and wrapped her arms around me I felt almost safe enough to just spill my guts about all that had been going on in my life. But then I thought of the looks of pity in the eyes of people who found out their friends had cancer. I swallowed the words that had almost come out of my mouth, pushed them to the back of my head and locked them behind one of the big doors inside of me. 

For the first time there was this person who I genuinely liked, whose presence gave me an energy I hadn’t felt in forever. Becoming friends with her, no matter how tempting it was, would be so incredibly selfish. To me, it would feel like some sort of betrayal, I befriend you because you don’t make me feel like a cancer patient who is about to die but just so you know, I will probably die within the next year or so. Deal with it. What kind of person would I be to do that to her. It would be more than unfair to befriend her only to die on her in the end. No one deserved that. Standing there, together on that balcony, her arms wrapped around me, it felt too good to let go and I wanted to be selfish for just a little bit longer. So I relaxed and wrapped my arms around the woman against me, I inhaled her scent and smiled at how pleasant it was. 

We went back inside after Delphine's smoke and were immediately greeted by the biggest chocolate cake I ever had in my life, also, it was shaped like a spaceship, which was strange. The chocolate cake with white chocolate frosting, had to be made for at least thirty or forty people. I was not an expert in cake portions but it looked like we would not be able to finish the cake with just the ten of us. 

“Who the hell made this thing?” Felix asked, his eyes having turned huge. 

Several of my friends pointed at Alison who grinned. She worked at one of the most prestigious cake shops in town and had become quite the expert over the years. I wondered whether she had put drugs in the cake. Alison was a big fan of space cake and had made dozens. 

"Someone didn't pick up their cake so I could take it, hence our desert.”

“What did you put in there?” Sarah asked, as if reading my thoughts. 

“Nothing in that one, I made it for a ten-year-old boy who was probably a naughty boy because his mother called that the party was off. I brought another one though for the ones who enjoy their cake a bit more,” she moved her arms to make some sort of mysterious gesture, which meant she wiggled her fingers into the air and there was the obvious pause for effect she often used before she spouted out the word “spacy” in an equally mysteriously-meant tone.

Felix, Sarah and Mark grinned and all raised their hands. How in the world would we eat this entire chocolate spaceship if half of the people would eat actual space cake. How ironic, spaceship-cake that wasn’t spacy and normal cake that was. Well, it would probably both make us high, our unit spaceship would just make us high on sugar. 

Sarah walked into the kitchen again and got a second cake, a smaller one this time, while she balanced a large stack of small, squared dishes, topped with forks, in the other hand. She had become so good at this, the dinner parties, the socializing, she’d come a long way, but began to resemble our oldest friend Alison way more than me. 

I watched as my best friend cut both cakes and started handing out filled with plates. When a plate with undoubtedly the largest piece was handed to me, its size resembling a large brick, 

I looked up and frowned at Sarah who winked at me. “What? You look like you need it.” 

I tried my best to eat the cake, even though it made me want to puke out every last piece of it in the end. 

Obviously I wasn’t hungry anymore, already having eaten more than my usual amount of food. Today it wasn’t even the soars that had started popping up everywhere in my mouth the moment chemo had started, they were usually the reason for my aversion to eat, which my parents totally ignored because and I quote, my dad in this case ‘you need the calories and vitamins so even if we have to put everything into a blender and make some sort of nasty juice out of it, we will but eat it you shall’. My dad never spoke nonsense so I knew he meant this as well. So after that we never got into an argument about food again. I’d tried blending food and it was more disgusting than anything I’d ever eaten. So in the end painfully shoving in spoon after spoon or fork after fork beat drinking a large glass of what look like puke and tasted worse. Some things were just not meant to be blended and turned into drinkable food. 

“Cosima, stop eating, you look like you’re about to puke,” Delphine whispered. 

“I just might.”

“You look green, stop eating.”

I sat there, a fork with a large piece of cake in my right hand and I was about to pop it into my mouth. 

Delphine stared at me sternly. “Put down the fork, now,” she said, her tone playfully menacing, like I was holding a gun instead of a fork with cake. 

The situation was so stupid it made me giggle but in the end I put down the fork. Glad she had forced me to because I felt stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey. When I looked around the table I found that most of my friend hadn’t been able to finish their slice of cake, except for my friends who ate the actual space cake of course, they had finished every last crumb of it, their plates were so clean they could go straight back into the cupboard they’d come from. 

Ever since my last experience with space cake I’d never been tempted to have some again, I’d made the classical error of eating it until I felt something. My friends, who considered themselves experts were a bunch of assholes for letting me eat five fucking pieces of the already strong cake. After about two hours, which was the average time for space cake to actually ‘work’, I had so much of it in my system that I spaced for hours, extremely hard and the entire ordeal was extremely unpleasant. 

When it finally hit me it felt like I had entered a different world, there had been colours everywhere, people had looked out of proportion with large heads or even animal heads, Smurfs were climbing the curtains, Alice in Wonderland’s Caterpillar was smoking and lounging on the kitchen counter. It had been fun at first but it had been quite a lot to take in and when it lasted and lasted it just became too much, there had been too much noise, too much to see and it freaked me out so bad I had grabbed a blanked and hidden in Sarah’s bathtub until the entire thing was over. I had fallen asleep in the bathtub and woken up with drawings on my face, penises and moustaches, yes there were more. Right then I’d promised myself I’d never eat space cake again, not even a ‘proper’ portion that wouldn’t have me freak out the way I had the night before. 

When some time later my friends had told me they were going to eat mushrooms I had politely declined, if space cake already had such a big effect on me, what would mushrooms make me see. I’d probably die of a heart attack right in the middle of it. 

After desert I was assigned to play DJ and I put on an old record on the LP play I’d given Sarah a few years earlier because I thought everyone should have at least a way to listen to the old-skool music as it was meant to be heard, with the creaking that distinguished LP from CD. I personally loved that sound and listened to old records mainly because of it, always hating it whenever a good album wasn’t available on record. 

While Delphine and I sat down on the couch and watched the others dance and drink and even make out here and there I began to feel a bit sleepy. We talked a little here and there but sat mostly in comfortable silence, enjoying the view and for me personally, the company. It was strange how comfortable she made me feel, it was something I had never encountered before in my life, people usually made me feel rather uncomfortable during the first months of hanging out. Which was probably why I didn’t have a lot of ‘new’ friends. When I had been younger it hadn’t been as bad as it was nowadays and Sarah had once asked me how that had happened. Where had it all come from, my need to be alone and weird ways whenever I met new people. I hadn’t been able to give her a clear answer. 

I wasn’t sure why Delphine wasn’t up with the rest of the group dancing with them, but I was thankful she wasn’t, even when Sarah came up to us and tried to push us to get up and dance, she declined with a gentle smile. Perhaps she just didn’t want me to push myself because it was obvious I wasn’t up for dancing. Peculiar thing was though that she was the only person in my entire group of friends who appeared to notice that I was hanging on by a thread. Being here and watching my friends have fun and laugh made me feel unhinged somehow, it made me realize this might as well all come to an end within the year. This would most likely be one of the last dinner parties I’d ever attend. 

Obviously I’d miss the dancing because I absolutely love dancing. The scene in front of me made me realize that these people were my friends and though I wasn’t the best friend in the world to them, they were all I had. If not for the cancer I probably wouldn’t even have realized it, but I had to be better a friend even though it didn’t make much sense, why try my best to become a better friend when our bond would grow stronger and I would die in the end. It would hurt them even more. Better to alienate myself even further away from the group and make them like me less than make them like me more and die. My brain had a fucked up way of thinking. 

Around midnight I was ready to go home, I had dozed off leaning heavily against Delphine a couple of times, only to be woken up by Delphine who at the third dozing-off-and-waking-me-up time announced she had to go home. I told the rest that I would be going home as well and no one seemed very surprised. We hugged and kissed everyone goodbye and I promised I would respond to WhatsApp messages and calls. Sarah told me she’d come over this week and I told her it was fine and that I was looking forward to it. She looked at me sceptically so I don’t think she actually believed me but I was too tired to care. 

Delphine offered me her arm and we walked down the several flights of stairs, going down was better than going up but it was still tiring. Outside she sat me down on the outside, stone stairway and told me she was going to get us a taxi. I probably dozed off again because suddenly Delphine shook me gently and I became aware of a yellow taxi standing in front of Sarah’s house. We sat down inside, closely together and while we were both still putting on our seatbelts the driver already spurted away. Somewhere in the back of my head I vaguely realized I hadn’t even told the driver where to go but by then my eyes had already closed and I was drifting away into a peaceful sleep against Delphine’s shoulder. 

“Cosima,” someone murmured in my ear, I felt someone’s hand softly squeezing my leg. 

My eyes opened and for a moment I wondered where I was, when I looked up to my right I recognized Delphine. Seeing her face made me smile a little. 

“Where are we?” I murmured when I peered past Delphine, out of the window and into the darkness. 

“We’re at your home, do you want me to come up with you?” I detected worry in her voice. 

“No, I’ll be fine,” I said, looking outside again, recognizing the building where I lived.

“I live over there” I added pointing into the direction of the old fire department building that had been turned into twelve apartments a few years back. 

“Let me at least walk you to your front door.” 

I nodded, unsure of whether I would actually make it to my door, the energy boost Delphine had given me all night had more than worn off and I felt like I might not be able to take a step outside of this taxi by myself. 

“I’ll be right back,” Delphine said to the taxi driver and got out, offering her hand for support. I took it and I leaned heavily against her while we made our way over to the front door, where Delphine searched my pockets for my keys while I leaned against the wall. She opened the front door and searched my face. “You sure you don’t want me to come inside?”

I waved her comment away. “I’ll be fine, I’m just a little tired.” 

Delphine obviously wasn’t convinced but didn’t push “good night Cosima Niehaus,” she murmured as she leaned in to kiss my cheek. 

“Good night, thank you for taking me home.” 

She flashed another smile and waited for me to close the front door. While I made my way to my house, I realized Delphine had to know something was up. It wasn’t normal to be this tired, to doze off continuously, well not at my age anyway. I wondered suddenly whether I had snored on our way to my house. I wondered why she hadn’t asked about my tiredness yet. I wondered how I would answer if she ever asked. Delphine made me wonder about a lot of things. Tomorrow would be soon enough to ponder those thoughts. 

Once I reached my bed I was officially too exhausted to brush my teeth, which I would regret in the morning. I took off my clothes, let them drop into a pile next to my bed and let myself fall onto the bed without bothering to put on a t-shirt. I got hold of the covers, pulled them over me and fell asleep before my head even touched my pillow.


	4. FOUR

It had been so long ago since I last did anything even remotely artistic that it almost felt alien to me to hold a pencil in my hand and move it over the sketchpad in my lap. My couch and the floor around my couch was filled with large sketches, they all had one thing in common, they all contained Delphine or a part of her. I’d been trying to recreate every detail of her in many different ways. One of the sketches focused on the way she her eyes started to spark whenever she laughed, another on the way dimples showed whenever she smiled, yet another focused on her biting her lip and the way she looked at me when she did, her eyes fiery and wide open. She was a beautiful person to sketch. It made me feel like some weird-stalker-person to be drawing her like this but even when I had tried to sketch a tree, it had become a scenery with her standing in front of a freaking tree. 

When I heard the doorbell ring I frowned. I grabbed my phone to see if I had missed someone’s call in case someone had been standing there, knocking until their knuckles were blue. I played my music rather loudly, which had led to people complaining about me often. The police had showed up on my doorstep more than once, which hadn’t been fun. So I kind of hoped it would be a friend standing in front of the door. I grabbed the remote and turned down the music and again stared at my phone. Still, no one was calling me. People had so very often complained about me not opening my front door because my music was turned on so loud, I couldn’t hear a thing. Either that or I wore my headphones, which made it impossible to hear anything. So over the years people had become used to calling me or texting me before they came by, announcing their arrival. 

I put away my sketchpad and got off the couch, made my way down the five stairs that divided my living room from my work area and opened the front door. The first thing I saw were her eyes, piercing brown and sparkling, intense as ever as they took me in. 

“Hi,” I breathed. 

“Bonjour, ça va?”

“I’m good,” I smiled. “You?”

She smiled in reply. “Bien.”

For a moment we stood facing each other without saying anything. Then I realized she probably wanted to come inside. “Would you like to come in?”

Delphine nodded. “Oui, s’il vous plaît.”

I took a step back and gestured for her to come inside. I knew why she was here, she wanted to talk about yesterday, she wanted to know why I was so incredibly tired and I couldn’t blame her for wanting to know. The moment Delphine stepped into my home she looked around her with big eyes, then back to me. “This is your house?”

“Yes.”

“It’s amazing,” she looked to the wall on her right, my art-wall that was almost fifteen feet high and almost entirely covered with sketches and paintings. “Did you do all these?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, most of them anyway, a couple are my mom’s, she’s an artist, as in, it’s her job, that one’s my mom’s,” I said, pointing at the portrait of me, before pointing at another one. “That one’s hers too and that one, the rest is all mine.” 

Delphine put a hand on my shoulder as she looked up at the wall. “This looks amazing, this one is gorgeous,” she said and pointed to a painting I had done almost a year before, it contained a group of children, playing in the summer heat. 

“Thank you,” I murmured. 

“They all look so happy, you captured their enthusiasm perfectly and it’s like they are moving on the canvas.” 

I felt my cheeks flush red at her words and watched her for another few minutes as she took in my wall of art. Finally her gaze fell back to me. “Show me around?”

I gave her a tour of my home, first the rest of my workplace, then up the stairway that contained only five steps and led to my living area slash kitchen. My workplace and living area were actually one big room, dividing the two rooms only because of the different levels. When we reached my couch I suddenly realized that my sketches were scattered about practically everywhere. Sketches of her, sketches that would make me look like some sort of obsessed freak. I swallowed and waited for her reaction. I watched her kneel and pick up one of the sketches. She stared at it for a long time, while I stood there next to her waiting, feeling uncomfortable as hell, my stomach jumped up and down inside of me until she glanced away from the sketch and into my eyes. 

“This is amazing, I thought you were a script writer?”

I shifted from one foot to my other. “Well, I am.”

“You’re in the wrong line of work.” 

That made me chuckle. “I thought you liked my work.”

“I do but you’re a very talented artist, you captured me perfectly, can I look at the rest?” she asked, her voice filled with awe. 

I swallowed and nodded before I watched Delphine gather the many sketches that covered the ground and couch in front of us. She sat down on the couch and started looking at the sketches carefully, one after another. There had to be at least thirty. While she went through the drawings I took a moment to collect myself, to get my heartbeat under control, taking this moment to turn on my LP player again. I had been listening to the newest record of ‘the Local Natives’, which was one of my favourite bands in the world. After the music was filling the silence that had been pushing down on me, making me nervous as hell, I calmed down somewhat, still, nervous thoughts were going through my head. Why wasn’t she reacting? Had all of the sketches freaked her out? I took a peek over my shoulder and glanced in the direction of my couch, she was sorting them, putting them into piles. For a moment I wanted to yell at her ‘WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH MY SKETCHES’ but decided not to be an ass and let it go. 

After a long moment of hovering in my kitchen for no reason other than to quell my nerves, which didn’t work, I went back to Delphine and sat down next to her. She said nothing and stared at the small pile in her hands that only contained two sketches. The top one, the one she was staring at with tears in her eyes, was a sketch of her upper body and face, the emotion on her face was to be described as none other than exuberant. Her eyes seemed to spark of the paper, her smile was infectious, the way she bit her lip and lightly dipped her head was a combination of pure sensuality. She stood with her hands in her side, her arms bend backward and legs crossed. She had looked at me and stood like that the day before, on the balcony during our second smoke, it had been a moment in which I had thought she might kiss me but she hadn't. 

"This one est magnifique," she said, her voice all choked up. 

"Thank you, you can keep it if you want.” 

She looked up at me and smiled a little as she nodded. "Thank you.”

"You can keep the other one as well if you like.”

Delphine put the second picture on top and stared at it hard, it was a so-called en-profil picture, showing off her beautiful curls, her high cheekbones and perfectly built jaw-line. It wasn't a beautiful picture per se but it was a strong one. 

"I like this one too.”

"Keep the ones you like.”

"Thank you.”

I smiled a small smile. "Would you like something to drink?”

"Yes please.”

"What would you like?”

"Something warm.”

"Tea?"

"Yes please.”

I got up and went back to the kitchen where I made tea. In the meantime Delphine continued looking at the sketches and added another two to the pair she already kept in her lap. When after a couple of minutes I came back with tea she put away the sketches and turned toward me. Her eyes sparkled and she smiled a beautiful, gentle smile. She looked at me and took me in, like the way one might take in a lover, or so I've seen in the movies. 

"Hi," she murmured. 

I found myself staring back at her in the same manner and murmured a soft 'hi' back. 

"How did you sleep?”

"Good, long.”

"Good to hear, so are you going to tell me what's wrong with you?”

The word 'cancer' bounced around in my head long enough for me to remember the way should would probably look at me if I told her. My stomach twisted itself into a tight knot it seemed and I was unable to bring forth an answer. 

"Do you, like, have Pfeiffer or anaemia or something.” 

Pfeiffer was as good an excuse as any and definitely a better answer than cancer so I decided to lie and go with it. "Yeah, I got Pfeiffer.”

She nodded. "is it a bad kind.”

"As bad as it gets.”

"So why haven't you told any of your friends.”

I shrugged. "Didn't want to bother them with it, I just need to sleep a little more than usual.”  
"But this is not the reason why you haven't spoken to your friends in a while, am I correct?”

"You're quite curious, aren't you?”

Delphine grinned. "Oui, désolé.”

"It's fine, but it’s not just that. I guess I've just been doing a lot of thinking lately and I've found out that my priorities in life lie somewhere different than theirs.”

"And where’s that exactly?”

For a moment I thought about how to turn my thoughts into words that made sense. "I'm not the kind of person that needs to go out every weekend and get attention from whomever wants to give it to me, I'd rather stay in and write or paint, listen to some music.”

"Hasn't it always been like that?”

I bit my lower lip in thought. Yes, it had been like that before, but back then I didn’t have cancer so I hadn't really cared about it. What they did was their thing, it was their life after all but somehow, the way they got drunk every weekend, the way they smoked away packs of cigarettes a day, ate unhealthily, it just wasn't what I wanted my friends to act like. That wasn't fair and I knew it but it had been a big reason for me to stay away, not just because I'd been too tired to actually call them. This had been going on for a longer period of time, at least half a year. Long before doctor B. told me about my leukaemia. 

"Yes, it has but it never really bothered me before. To me it just seems like they are throwing their life away and to them, they are enjoying life to its fullest. I mean, there's a big difference in our visions on life.”

Delphine gave me an apologetic half smile. "I understand, I had the same thing a couple of years back.”

"What did you do?”

"I let go of my past and moved here.”

"Perhaps I should move to Belgium,” I sighed dramatically.

"Well, it will definitely be something different compared to living here, especially where I am from.” 

That made me smile. "Wouldn't want to be found dead in Belgium, no offense.”

Delphine laughed aloud and shifted more toward me as she leaned in, as if telling me a secret. "I wouldn't want to be found dead in Belgium either.” 

We both smiled. 

“So, what’s your favourite board game?” Delphine then blurted out, making me frown at the way her question came out of the blue. 

“Err, well, I enjoy a game of Clue any time I guess so that would be my favourite, haven’t played it in a long time though, the last time I actually played it was on a holiday with an Italian girl with whom I couldn’t communicate properly so I probably romanticized the game a little but still, I recall enjoying the game very much. Yours?”

“I enjoy Monopoly, I like the classics.” 

“Monopoly is fun but it takes so fucking long, you always have to schedule an entire afternoon to play it.” 

“C’est vrai.” 

“I like it when you speak French.”

“Do you now? Why?”

“Because it’s a romantic language.”

“I didn’t take you to be the romantic type.” 

That made me laugh. “Honestly, I just like the way it sounds.” 

“Touché.” 

About an hour later we went to the supermarket where we bought groceries, Delphine had invited herself over for dinner, telling me she would cook and that I would have to deal with it. I didn’t mind, I didn’t really enjoy cooking that much so if she wanted to cook, she could. When we arrived back home she forced me to sit at my dinner table and watch her cook, I was not to help her. She exclaimed she liked cooking too much but I expected there was something more behind it, she probably thought it was annoying to have to share the task and perhaps even that I wouldn’t cut the eggplant or mushrooms properly. She liked being in control, that much was obvious. So I sat down and watched her prepare pasta, which we ate about half an hour later, it was delicious. 

After dinner we decided to watch a movie, a good-quality-and-preferably-classical-movie of course, because those were apparently the kind of movies she liked. When I told her what my favourite movies were she literally huffed and puffed all throughout my explanation. My list was ridiculous and she was going to do something about it, whether I wanted to or not. Not really caring what we would watch, I complied with her wishes and let her choose a movie. We ended up watching some Dutch movie. It was a movie that ironically enough was about a woman dying of a terminal illness. I kept quiet during the entire ordeal and Delphine noticed my facial expression turning more and more grave. By the end of the movie she asked me whether I didn’t like the movie and I answered truthfully.

“Movies about death depress me.” 

“Why?”

“Because it makes me realize death is inevitable.” 

“So you don’t like movies about people dying.”

“Not particularly.”

Delphine smiled a little. “Well, at least we figured that out, next time we’ll watch a movie about rainbows and unicorns,” she said, her tone of voice light and teasing. 

“That would be nice.” 

For a while we merely sat on the couch, facing each other and kept looking at each other without looking back. Tonight apparently was a night of staring, if we’d be having a staring contest we’d both be strong contenders for the title of stare-winner. 

Suddenly Delphine sat up and offered me her hand. “Come, we’re going somewhere.” 

I frowned. “Where?” I asked cautiously. 

“Outside.”

“Why?”

“Quiet whining and get your lazy ass off that couch,” Delphine grinned and she leaned in to drag me off the couch. I let her pull me up and followed her down the steps to my work area. She put on her jacket and threw mine at me. 

“What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to watch the stars.” 

We went outside and into the park that was nearest to my house. We strolled casually, without hurrying, simply because there was no need to do so. We crossed a fountain that made me think back to the movie, it gave me a painful pang in the chest, a reminder of how I should enjoy life more. Upon that thought I realized I was enjoying life more and it had everything to do with Delphine. It was the little things, going grocery shopping and having her look at everything around her, my neck near broke several times because she had been pointing out things I needed to see. It were things I normally would have overlooked, an extremely elderly couple walking hand in hand, eating ice cream while looking very much in love, a child sitting atop someone who looked like her big brother’s shoulders, all smiles and giggles, a nest of young swans chasing each other with a beautiful, playful tenacity that brought a smile to my face. 

Delphine took it all in with such a joyful look on her face that it made me long to be able to see those things as well, without her having to point them out. In a way it made me realize even more just how blind I had been to the world and how much there was to see. I had been blindsided, focussing on work only and though that was, in a certain way, beautiful too, it wasn’t the kind of beauty Delphine saw and relished in, but still, I created beauty and in one of the purest forms. It all came from my imagination. 

I wondered whether my film scripts would change after spending time with Delphine, would I add more of the little things to my stories to make it more real, more personal even? It had been a while since I had written even one freaking sentence. Inspiration had been absent ever since I had started chemo. Luckily I had finished my work-in-progress before heading over to the hospital for my first round of induction chemo. It was what would pay for my hospital bills. Though most would be covered by the insurance, definitely not everything would be and I needed money, lots of it, to be able to pay for them. Life as a cancer patient didn’t always go as planned. Especially when you were going to be in and out of the hospital for the next several months. Even after, if I survived, which I obviously didn’t think I would, I was optimistic like that, I would be haunted by my cancer for the rest of my life. Regular checks-ups, unfit for life insurance, unable to ever get a mortgage again, the idea that, if I ever wanted to have kids, I very well might give them along the genes that would put them through what I was going through. 

Before my cancer, I had never even considered the consequences of cancer but little by little, over the past weeks, I’d been figuring things out, finding out just how screwed I really was. Even getting a real job was a pain in the ass, I was lucky to be a freelancer, and a successful one at that. I’d get the money I needed, but what about all the other cancer survivors young and old who’d be scarred for life and not just physically but emotionally as well. After all they had gone through, they’d be denied the simple things in life like getting a job or a mortgage just because they’d been so lucky to survive cancer and then they’d have to face shit like that. Well lucky them huh! 

After sitting at the edge of the fountain and guessing what kind of wishes people had been making ever since the fountain had been put there in the middle of the park, exactly ninety-three years, we headed over to a quiet and dark part of the park where no one ever came at night. I wasn’t easily scared but were something to happen, I wouldn’t be able to defend Delphine, or even myself, or run away for that matter, so I stated that walking in a park at night wasn’t the smartest thing to do at that point but Delphine just waved my comment away. 

“Nothing’s going to happen, I come here so often and by myself, nothing has ever happened before, I hardly ever bump into anyone anyway so don’t worry.”

That took away only the smallest part of my worries but I was a little more at ease as I walked next to Delphine, occasionally leaning on her for support because the long walk was more tiring than expected. I felt like having a nap, which I did once we lied down on the grass, she hadn’t put a blanket into her backpack. Telling me she felt more connected to nature if she just lay flat on her back while strands of grass tickled her neck and arms. 

When I woke up Delphine was staring up at the sky and for a while I watched her. She truly seemed to enjoy just lying there, like she didn’t have a care in the world and I felt more than amazed at how peaceful she came across. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d felt the way she looked. Probably never truly had. Ever since I was young, I’d been the restless kind of person, always needing to do something, anything, to keep my mind busy, work, watching movies or series, reading, going out, dancing, drinking. Never before had I taken a moment to stand still, let my thoughts roam wherever they wanted to go. While working or reading I might have looked at ease with myself, but that was only because I was focused on whatever was in front of me. Tunnel-vision was the thing that worked for me, otherwise, my own thoughts would just drive me crazy, going from one topic to another and back and to another that wasn’t even remotely related to the one before. 

Finally, after at least ten minutes of Delphine staring at the sky and me staring at her, she turned her head toward me. The corner of her mouth turned her lips into a half smile.

“You’re awake.”

“Apparently so, enjoying the view?.”

“Very much, stop looking at me and take a moment to enjoy the view,” she said, like she knew I’d been staring at her for the past ten minutes. 

I didn’t comment on it though and followed her instruction, looking up at the sky that was a beautiful deep blue and covered with so many stars it was impossible to count all of them. It looked like the sky was littered with diamonds, ready to be taken from the sky by anyone who wanted to have some. 

“Beautiful huh,” Delphine said after a while, breaking the peaceful silence in which I had stared up at the sky in amazement, feeling regret for never having taken the time to do just this. It felt so alien to me, yet at the same time it felt like I’d been doing it all my life, lying there, my head resting on Delphine’s shoulder. Somewhere during my moment of appreciation for what was above me, I’d looked for the comfort of, not just her presence, but her physical contact as well. 

Everything about this situation rattled me, enjoying someone’s presence so much, enjoying this little moment in life that before meeting Delphine, I never would have. Yet, at the same time it all felt so natural I just went with it. 

“Yeah, it’s more beautiful than I had ever thought it could be. You do this often?”

“Depends on the weather, sometimes I go three times a week, sometimes I don’t for a whole month. Sometimes I look up at the sky and realize it’s been weeks and then I just stand still for a while and take in the beauty.” 

I nodded and even though she wasn’t able to see it, she took my hand in hers and squeezed it gently like she had. 

What else I realized that evening was that we often spent long periods of time in complete silence and that those moments were not uncomfortable like I had always been afraid they’d be. If anything, those quiet moments were nice and peaceful and filled with appreciation of all things. 

“What is your first memory” Delphine suddenly asked out of the blue. 

Delphine had a way of asking things I did not expect and again came the realization that this woman had to be one of a kind. She never went for the obvious questions, she asked those that would truly determine the person I was, where I came from and why I had made certain decisions in my life. 

I smiled as I thought that question over for a moment. Several came to mind but I had difficulties figuring out which one happened first. 

“I guess, my first would be one of me and Sarah, we’ve known each other our entire lives and when we were toddlers, I was staying over at her place, she used to be my neighbour and our moms were pregnant around the same period. They were best friends and so Sarah and I were destined to become best friends as well.”

“Would have been something if you hated each other.”

I laughed out loud. “Yeah, that would have been disastrous. I wonder what my life would have looked like then, without her to include me in all of her social activities. I probably wouldn’t have had any friends.”

Delphine looked at me and I looked back at her, my head turned to the side, toward her. It was difficult to make out her facial expression in the dark, but I figured it had to be sad. I decided not to ask, if she wanted to tell me her thoughts, she would offer them. So, we said nothing for a while and I took that time to look back up at the stars. My heart was racing, making me feel tired. Delphine was the first to break the silence, making me jolt upward in shock. I’d been falling asleep.

“So, first memory.” 

“Fuck.”

“What, were you sleeping?”

“I guess so.”

“Wow, that took you like two minutes, maybe we should get back to your place.”

“I can sleep here, just wake me when you want to get going.”

“I want to hear your memory first.”

“Ah, yes, so Sarah, Felix and I were getting undressed in her bedroom, this might sound dirty but it wasn’t, her mom Siobhan was running a bath for us.” 

Delphine chuckled.

“So, we were all naked and her mom came into the room and chased us to the bathroom, we were running and her mom was yelling that this was the naked-butt show. That was it actually.” 

Delphine laughed aloud, her clear, appreciative laugh. 

“I can totally see it happening.” 

“Yeah, well, it was fun. So what’s yours.”

She didn’t take a second to think about her first memory. “My first memory is of my mom and dad taking me to the forest, we were on holiday I guess.”

I smiled appreciatively, I wasn’t surprised. “How old were you?”

“Two, three years old I guess.”

“Was it fun?”

“Yeah, I got to run around nature and got to pet little bunnies and baby deer. My dad was friends with the forest keeper there so we got to see a lot of things the rest of the people didn’t, it was amazing.” 

“Lucky bastard you.”

“I know right, it’s insane,” she laughed. 

“Totally.” 

“Wait, get up for a second please?” Delphine asked and I did without asking why. She moved her arm and pulled me close, I rolled onto my side and nuzzled my face into her shoulder. 

“That’s comfy,” I murmured and fell asleep without hearing Delphine’s reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for those who've been reading this story. I've been working on this for a while, put it aside for an even longer time. So I'm updating pretty often, I only have to make the word file Archive proof. 
> 
> Hope you're enjoying it. Comments are always welcome :)


	5. FIVE

The sun was shining, which automatically made it a good day in my book. Yes, I liked the occasional rain shower but if I had to choose, I'd always pick sun over rain. What I liked about rain these days though, was that it matched my mood perfectly. Me cranky equalled rainy days and it had been raining a lot of late. Though before my cancer, it wouldn't necessarily have been a reason for me to stay inside, it now meant more trouble, like holding an umbrella, which would drain me of the strength my body possessed, which in turn had led to me staying inside every day since hearing I would die from leukaemia. Except for the two short times outside getting into the taxi or getting from the taxi into my apartment while going to Sarah's party, the latter I didn't even remember because I had been practically asleep, still, not going outside for that many days, it had been depressing as hell. Until Delphine had showed up and taken me outside to watch the stars of course. That had been a nice outing, but it had already been two days ago since she'd stowed up on my doorstep. 

There was only so much series-binging a person could handle and also sketching had lost its appeal after a hundred or so. That left reading but I had found myself getting tired the moment I had finished a full page. So all in all, I was leading the most boring life a twenty-six ever had. Having cancer officially sucked ass and these were supposed to be the last months of my life. I was supposed to be enjoying life to its fullest. 

The only time I'd actually had fun had been the day Delphine had been here, but it already felt like ages ago already since she'd been here and she hadn’t contacted me again. That day she'd stayed the entire afternoon and evening, we'd gone out for grocery shopping together which had been fun, oh right, I’d gone outside that time as well. Grocery shopping had been fun, how lame is that. Grocery shopping is definitely not on the list of fun things to do. But still, we'd had fun together, she'd forced me to sit in a shopping cart and driven me around the grocery store, it had made me feel like a kid again, which was something I hadn't felt in a long time. After we got home she'd cooked for me and we'd watched that lame ass movie about people dying and then we'd spent hours outside in the nearest park, watching the stars while lying on a blanket and me wearing two sweaters because I was cold. Delphine wore literally a t-shirt, which was ridiculous of course.

When I had found out that cancer meant spending a lot of time in bed, I'd begun writing a list of movies and series to watch before I’d die. That list consisted of movies like Alien, the Clockwork Orange, Amelie, Lost, Mad Men, Prison Break and many more titles. Slowly, I was crossing them off one by one. 

Upon meeting Delphine I'd even considered learning a new language, French, I used to like learning the language during High School so I might as well dive into it again, even though I hadn’t been very good at it. So far I hadn't gotten past bonjour and ça va/ça va bien et toi, oh and enchanté of course, because these were the things Delphine said on a regular basis. Perhaps I'd ask her if she'd teach me some French, I certainly wouldn't mind learning from her. She was smart (especially when it came to languages) and she was officially one of the coolest people I had ever met in my life. The way she always bubbled enthusiasm and the way she seemed to enter the room like a fresh summer breeze, it was intriguing to say the least. It made me wish I'd met her sooner. 

Since the moment Delphine had left my house around midnight two days ago, I'd found myself hoping she'd show up unannounced again sooner rather than later. So far she hadn't. Over the course of my life I'd met a lot of people, fellow students, people in bars, people from work. I'd never once waited by the phone for someone to call me or to come over, it was an alien feeling and it made me feel rather stupid to be honest. If I wanted to see her I should just fucking call her, ask her to come over. I wouldn't though, not because I was too proud to ask her (which I totally was) but mostly because I knew it wouldn't be fair to her, becoming friends with someone unbeknownst of the fact that they had cancer was cruel and I felt the need to stick to that, no matter that she had come over before. 

The thought of dying on her alone prevented me from calling or text-messaging Delphine. Befriending someone you genuinely liked when the future looked so bleak was something to avoid at all costs. My doctor would probably disagree but to me it was the only way to look at it. Being friends with someone who had cancer was one thing but befriending someone who had cancer who didn't tell you about it and refused treatment. What kind of person would that make me. Strangely enough, I only felt reasonable like that whenever she wasn't around.

At the same time I knew that if Delphine would suddenly appear on my doorstep, I wouldn't send her away. It would be her own choice, which would make it only a little less heartless of me. This entire situation only made me more aware of how selfish I really was. My friends had often addressed my selfish side, which was a pretty big part of me, yet I had never cared enough to actually do something about it. If I didn't feel like calling, I wouldn't, if I wanted to spend two weeks straight on a new script without speaking to anyone, I would, no matter if one of my friends needed me for something. This attitude had led to troubled conversations often, fights even and in a way I could understand their opinion, in the end though, this was my life, this was my career and I would do whatever the hell I wanted. Perhaps the difference laid in the fact that the rest of my friends had focused on boyfriends and girlfriends and love, it was something I hadn't been able to identify with, especially at a younger age, so I'd started to focus on myself, on my career. 

It had led to good things, that at least was true but still, the way my friends often talked about being in love, sometimes I wished I were able to just fall in love too, just like them, it seemed to add some special dimension to their lives that I didn't understand. Even though I was convinced love was overrated, sometimes I wished I knew what it felt like. It would make a lot of things easier, such as conversations about love, which occurred more than you'd think, also giving love advice would be easier, whenever Sarah came over to my place, tears dripping down her face because she'd been dumped, I had no clue as to what to say other than 'it will be all right, give it time, she doesn't deserve you anyway'. Which is probably the lamest advice ever. 

This one time Sarah had been dating a guy called Paul and she had found out that he was dating another girl as well. Sarah had asked me what to do, how to confront him and all I had been able to say was 'just tell him that you don't like it'. Sarah had looked at me like I was crazy. Apparently that was not the way to go about such a situation, she'd called me clueless again and rolled her eyes at me. Well, what the fuck did I know of love and dating. Why would anyone come to me for advice when they knew I had zero experience on the topic. Talk about clueless.

A loud knocking on the front door violently jolted me out of my thoughts and I sat upright on my couch, almost kneeing myself in the face in the process. Who the hell could that be, knocking on my door on such a fine day. Most of my friends would be outside, spending their day at the park or even at the beach, no doubt Spencer and Lee would be spending their day with their feet in the sand, soaking up every beam of sunlight that would shine down. Perhaps it would be someone bringing God. That happened often nowadays, or perhaps, without listening to loud music as usual, I actually heard the people knocking for once. My ears had become real sensitive to sound ever since chemo had started so I played my LP player at an acceptable volume these days. Which apparently lead to hearing people knock on my front door more often. Right. Someone was standing at my door. 

Without hurrying I went over to the door and opened it. I was immediately greeted by a jolt going through my entire body. Delphine. She leaned casually against my doorpost, a lazy smile on her face. She wore tight, black jeans and a white sleeveless top that showed off beautifully muscled arms and shoulders. She’d put on a pair of Nikes and rolled up her pant legs, showing off her ankles. She was more tanned than I remembered. As during the times I’d seen her, she wore little make-up, just some mascara and her blond curls were freshly washed and wild as ever. She truly was a sight for sore eyes. 

“Delphine” I exclaimed happily. 

She threw me a smirk. “Hello, get dressed, I’ve decided you need to get out more so I’m taking you somewhere.”

About three quarters of an hour later I found myself staring at a river just outside of town. The water streamed fast due to the large amount of water that had rained down during the past few weeks but it was a pleasant sight. I liked water, always had. It calmed me down. Even better than staring at water was being fully engulfed by it, swimming in rivers, streams, lakes, the sea and even swimming pools was something I enjoyed and had done often, at least once a week before chemo had started. At a young age I had made it my goal to swim in as many different sources of water as possible. I’d even tried a canal, a ditch and several fountains but they hadn't really been a success, canals were nasty and filled with things you didn't want to touch because it might give you hep A or something, ditches were filled with dirty-looking water and a lot of mud, which made getting out difficult as fuck. A water tower still stood uncrossed on my bucket list but I had no clue as to how to manage crossing off that one. 

Delphine leaned against a tree and had suggested for me to lay down my head in her lap. I had and she stared at my hair.

“Why do you have dreads?” 

“Because I’m lazy.” 

“You have beautiful hair.”

“Yeah. I inherited it from my dad.” 

“I got my hair from my mother, she always had long, blond curls.”

I frowned. “Had?”

“Oui, she cut it off a couple of years back.”

“Why?”

“That’s what I asked her before she cut it, she told me her hair was turning grey and she didn’t want to have long grey hair so she had it cut short, now she had these short, grey curls but she can totally pull it off.” 

I smiled up at Delphine. “Do you look like her?”

“Very much, you, do you look like your parents?”

“I am the perfect combination of my parents, got my dad’s hair, he’s fifty-eight right now and doesn’t have a grey hair on his head, got his eyes too, according to my mom he used to be the most handsome man in the entire country.”

“And she got him.”

“Yes, she is still very proud of that. Anyway, I got my mom’s face, same mouth, same nose, even the same body, though her boobs are bigger, she blames me.” 

That made Delphine laugh aloud before she asked. “Do you have brothers or sisters?”

“Nope, only child, I was adopted. They couldn’t have kids of their own.” 

“Why not?”

“They never told me so I don’t know. You?”

“Well, I come from a big family, I have three sisters, I am the third child.” 

“Do they still live in Belgium?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you come to live here anyway?”

She started pulled at the grass beside her and she bit her lip in thought for a moment, she looked away from my face and looked out onto the river, a sad smile on her face. “Got the opportunity of a lifetime with work, right after I finished my degree.”

“Where did you go after university?”

“First I went to Paris, I told you before right.”

“Ah, yes, sorry, I tend to forget things, you studied languages there.”

Bloody chemo had turned my brain into a colander, important information sometimes just seeped through the holes in my drainer-head. 

“It’s all right. So I studied there for four years, worked at that same university for a while as a language teacher, all the while translating on the side for a large company that focused on translating books mostly. Once I had established myself as a translator enough, I stopped teaching and focused on translating only, eventually, the company I worked for offered me a job here, so I moved here last winter.” 

“What kind of job did they offer you? I thought you were a freelancer?” 

“Yeah, I was, my official job description says I’m a floor manager but I have to go to the office only once a week, I keep in touch with my people through e-mail and phone calls mostly.”

“And what do you do?”

“I make sure they get the books and texts that need to be translated, remind them of deadlines, sometimes I hire and of course I translate as well.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, very much.” 

“Good, that’s important, liking your job.” 

“It really is, so I guess I’m like you, always focussing on my work.”

“No time for a personal life and relationships?” I asked. 

Delphine smiled. “I tried, but I’ve never met anyone who’s been worthy of my attention more than my work.” 

“So no string of exes.” 

“No, you can count my exes on one hand, none of them were serious, not to me anyway. How about you? I hear you’ve got an even shorter list than me.”

I grinned. “You’ve been talking to Sarah about me, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I wanted to know about you.”

“What did you want to know?”

“Who you are basically.” 

I nodded and decided I liked that she wanted to know about me. “Well, like you said, I have a very short list, I’ve never really been into anyone, tried dating here and there but I’m just not that into people, frankly speaking, they bore me mostly, so at a certain point I just stopped trying.”

A look of disappointment crossed Delphine’s face and for a long moment she said nothing. “So, I hear you’re gay?”

“I don’t believe in labels, I believe sexuality is a spectrum and you either lean toward liking boys more or liking girls more.”

“And where are you on this spectrum?” 

“Definitely leaning toward gay.”

Delphine started tracing my arm with her fingernails, making me shiver and she stared off into the distance. She sported a troubled look on her face that made me wonder what she was thinking about. I decided I wouldn’t ask, afraid of what her answer might be. During the times we’d seen each other it had become clear to me that she liked me more than a friend, which was difficult for me. I wasn’t sure whether I actually wanted to be with anyone, period. Even if I didn’t have cancer, I’d seen my friends fall in love and be hurt so badly in the process that every kind of appeal love might have once had, had slowly faded away like a trail of smoke in the sky. Romance was something that had lost its meaning over the years. Sure, I liked Delphine, a lot, but I wouldn’t call it anything more than that. I enjoyed being in her company but that was it. Or wasn't it? I didn't know. For the first time ever I realized I wouldn’t recognize being in love even if it bit me in the ass, so in the end it was easier to believe that I just liked Delphine as a friend. Especially with my inevitable death coming closer and closer with each day. 

I made a promise to myself and a silent one to Delphine right there on the spot. No matter how my feelings would develop toward her, even if (and that was an if in capital letters) I would fall in love with her and actually recognize it, I would not act upon them, because it just wouldn’t be fair to her. But assuming there wouldn’t be any feelings to develop was easier to swallow so I just stuck to that. I sighed in resignation, my head was a mess. She turned my head into a mess. Ever since she had whirl-winded into my life, things had started to change, hell, I had started to change. Suddenly there were thoughts of maybe-liking someone, there were thoughts of maybe-telling people about my cancer, there occasionally had been thoughts of surviving all the chemo treatments, most shocking though, was the need to be with Delphine. I knew it was a sign of maybe-liking someone but I decided to just plain out ignore it. 

We sat in silence for a while and though there was a desperate need inside of me to say something, after a while I didn't know what to say so keeping quiet seemed to best way to go about the situation. Delphine said nothing either and appeared to be lost in thought. Therefore I just stared at the sky, at the puffy, nothing-resembling clouds that drifted by lazily. When I had been younger, I had always wanted to sit on those clouds, like an angel, staring down at the world, but later on I had heard that it is freezing up there and pretty windy, so sitting or rather lounging on top of clouds had lost its appeal. As if it were possible to even sit on clouds. I'd watched too many cartoons when I was younger. Still, I had always liked clouds, especially the puffy white ones I was seeing floating in the sky above, they comforted me. They contrasted beautifully against the stark blue sky behind them. 

Every now and then my gaze shifted from the sky to Delphine who continued being in thought, though her expression had lost its edginess from before. It had obviously upset her and I thought I understood why, probably would have myself if the roles were reversed. If only I could have been normal, like the rest of the world. Well, that wasn't true, normal was overrated, what was normal anyway. 

Was Sarah normal with her obsession of getting attention and flirted with? Was Alison with always wanting to be better at everything than anyone? Or what about Spencer, who couldn't sleep anywhere but at home. Was anyone on this planet truly normal? Probably not. I was convinced everyone had their quirks and silly habits even though they didn't walk around tell everyone they came across. My mother for example never went anywhere without her lucky penny, my father always checked the bedroom for spiders, Delilah always drew little hearts above Is and Js and I had noticed Delphine always checked the time on the watch with the broken wristband she carried in her right pant pocket. Hell I whistled Christmas songs all year long. 

Everyone was different in their own way and had different characteristics and were considered 'not normal' according to others. My not ever having liked anyone, did that really make me all that different from the rest of the world? My friends had made it seem that way, always questioning my sexuality or my a-sexuality as they referred to it. Was my lack of interest in the opposite sex or the same sex really that different from not being able to sleep anywhere but at home? It wasn't to me, perhaps because it was my kind of normal. Yet to others, I was strange, only because they didn't understand my situation. My lack of interest in sex didn't make me a freak, it just made me a little different. 

As the thoughts in my head swivelled and swirled around violently, making me go from one strain of thought to another, I realized how tired thinking made me so for a minute I closed my eyes, only to drift off in a dreamless sleep within a matter of moments. 

When I woke up again I found the sun had lowered in the western sky and shadows were considerably longer than before I'd fallen asleep. I looked up into Delphine's eyes who smiled at me gently, the troubled look no longer haunting her eyes. Her left hand was on my chest, as if she'd been checking my heartbeat, while her other was stroking my shoulder, occasionally her nails scratched my skin but it didn't hurt, it actually felt rather pleasant. 

"Hi.” 

I worked my tongue through my mouth, hoping to bring some saliva back into my dry mouth. 

"Oh, wait! Here," Delphine said and leaned over to the picnic basket. "What would you like, juice or water?” 

"Juice please.”

She'd thought of everything for the picnic, she'd brought several kinds of drinks, food, music and of course a blanket. She'd put everything into a real picnic basket and driven me out here, to the middle of nowhere where there were no people, where there was no sound other than singing birds, chirping insects, the gentle ripple of water moving over and against the pebbles of the riverbank. It was nice and peaceful. To my surprise I realized it was a relief to be out in nature after all the weeks I'd spent in and out of the hospital. Though my parents lived in the suburbs, which was considerably less crowded and busy, being at their place just wasn't quite like being here. 

Whenever anyone asked me where I'd spend the rest of my life, I had always replied with the same two words 'the city' for I had always thought I wasn't a countryside-kind-of-girl. But being here, with my head in Delphine's lap, I could picture myself waking up on some sort of farmhouse and walking outside, looking at the river that would be flowing only fifty yards away, smelling the pleasant smell of freshly-mowed grass and trees, hearing birds sing their song, crickets chirp in the distance. I'd look upon all the green of the grass and trees, I would take it in every morning and afternoon and evening and I would probably love every second of it. Despite the fact that I had always thought of myself as a typical city-girl who had no ambition to move anywhere other than a couple of blocks away because the neighbourhood I lived in was great, I would probably love it out here. 

If I'd survive my cancer, I would consider moving out here somewhere, have a house built or find one and fix it up the way I liked it. Perhaps it could become a summer house of some sort, surely my parents would love that, unlike me, they had always loved the countryside and went camping at least once a year. Every year, from my first until my sixteenth, they had dragged me along on their camping trips and I guess I had liked them but only because camping made for great sketching. Every morning I'd head out into the woods or to some sort of lake or river where I'd spend the day drawing my surroundings. The camping itself hadn't been that great, the people were just not my kind of people, the peeing and pooping and showering in the stalls that were practically open was something I had abhorred and dreaded during the weeks before a holiday. My parents had told me regularly not to be a whiney-pants but from a young age I had decided that camping just wasn't for me, I'd rather go on holiday to some sort of resort where I'd have a private bathroom, a swimming pool, a sauna and most important room service. Call me spoiled but that was just the way I liked to spend my holidays. Camping was just too much work. 

"Here you go," Delphine said as she handed me a bottle of orange juice. 

"Thank you," I smiled, opened the lid carefully and propped myself up onto an elbow so I could take a swig. 

"Would you like to eat something? I brought fruit and sandwiches.” 

I laid back down in Delphine's lap after closing the lid on the bottle again, I stared up at her and smiled. Delphine looked down and seemed to be unable to not smile back at me. "What is it?” 

"Thank you for today.”

"The day is not over.”

"I know but thank you, I've missed doing things like this, you're a good," I said, unsure of how to end that sentence but decided this was the best and safest way. "Friend, you're a good friend and good company.”


	6. SIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, enjoy readers! Grateful that you're reading it. Leave a comment or feedback (good/bad, doesn't matter)

After our day at the river, it took exactly one day before Delphine again stood at my doorstep, she took me out to dinner and showed up at my doorstep again the next afternoon. Apparently my revelation about not being on any kind of spectrum had done nothing to quell her affection for me. I found myself being relieved and looking forward to each time she knocked on my front door unannounced. It became a regular thing, every afternoon around four, she would arrive, groceries in one hand, a DVD or a book or a board game in the other. If her presence hadn’t been something to look forward to, her cooking would have been, Delphine cooked up the most amazing meals and they were probably the best I had ever had in my life. 

Both my parents weren’t really born chefs and neither was I so it was nice to have someone make you delicious food each and every day, mushroom risotto one day, perfectly cooked salmon the next, roast beef that melted in your mouth the day after that. The coolest thing was that Delphine loved cooking for me, exclaiming that it had been such a long time since she’d been able to really get back into it because she didn’t enjoy cooking just for one. Delphine kept me busy and brought a little bit of routine back into my life. We didn’t talk about her feelings for me again.

During the weekend, about a week before I had to go back to the hospital she knocked on my door a little earlier than she had during the previous days. It was a little after noon and she showed up wearing a pair of black shorts that showed off a set of long, tan legs and a loose, white top that left little to the imagination. Seeing her set off a deep pang inside the pit of my stomach that I pushed away before I could determine whatever it was that gave me that strange feeling. 

"Hi," I breathed. I literally breathed the word, it was ridiculous. 

"Cosima, come, take a shower and get dressed, we're going to do something today.”

Like we hadn't been doing stuff all week. 

"Where are we going?”

"There's this open-air-film-festival this afternoon, starting at two, I really want to go and I would love for you to join me.”

I knew the festival she was talking about, it was one of the many that were held in summer, I'd gone there often during previous years. It was a good one, like the one I'd attended a little over a month ago. The one that had made me decide to have chemo therapy. 

"I didn't know you were a fan of short movies.”

"So you know the festival?”

"I'm a script writer, what'd you expect? I'd love to join, come on it, I'm going to take a shower, you're lucky, I already had breakfast so it shouldn't take me very long.” 

I hopped into the shower, or rather strolled over to the bathroom where I just got in and showered rapidly. Then I towelled myself dry and got dressed into a pair of new jeans my mom had gotten me, all black and with that I put on a black sweater without a print that was also new. I suspected it was from the children's department, it was so small. 

Then I brushed my teeth, put on my wig and went out into the living room where Delphine sat at my table, a laptop in front of her. She was working, on a Saturday and for a moment I watched her type. For the first time I wondered how old she was. She appeared to be my age but I knew that appearances could be deceiving. People usually estimated me to be around twenty-one, that was partly due to my slight form, I was rather petite with my five-six and size XS or twenty-six. It had always been like that, whenever I wanted to get myself some alcoholic beverages, I needed to show my ID more often than not. Over the years I'd grown used to it and usually just had my driver's license by hand, ready to flash it if asked. 

Delphine looked to be about my age, but I realized I had never even asked her, so I just did. Her reaction was priceless, her eyes grew big, her mouth fell open, like I had asked her whether she'd ever caught an STD. 

"Where the hell did that question come from?" she asked. 

"Well, I was wondering, I just realized I never asked, do you even know how old I am.”

"Yeah, you're twenty-six.”

"How the hell did you know that?”

"I asked Sarah.”

"Ah." 

Well that made sense. They had talked about me. Sarah had told me so the day before when she had come over during the afternoon so we could have lunch and talk about everything that was going on in my life. I'd lied my ass off during the entire ten minutes she'd drilled me about it, after which I'd switched to a safer topic, her. She could talk about herself and her life for hours and she had, only every now and then asking me a question or trying to figure out what was going on between Delphine and me. I hadn't given her a straight answer once and I'd felt bad about lying, despite it being for the best. For now at least. 

"But I'm thirty-one" Delphine then said. 

Now I was the one with the gigantic eyes and my mouth hanging open. What the fuck. I had not seen that one coming. 

"No way, you're lying!”

Delphine laughed. "I'm not actually, I just look younger than my actual age.”

"That's insane, you come across so, how do you say it, young and I don’t know hurricane-like or something.”

"Age is just a number Cosima.”

"Yeah, I guess it is.” 

For a long moment Delphine stared at me, then closed her laptop and got up. "Ready to get going?"

An hour later we were sitting together on a blanket, she was leaning against one of the many trees that surrounded the film festival area. I just sat by myself, about a foot away from Delphine who was quieter than usual. I wasn't sure why and wasn't whether I wanted to know so I just didn't ask. 

The first movie started at three and we spoke little, which was odd for us, normally we talked the day away, between my moments of sleep of course. Today I didn't sleep though, perhaps it was because of the fact that I was at a film festival, perhaps it was because I was feeling nervous. During the sixth movie I finally felt uncomfortable enough to speak up and ask what was going on. 

"This has nothing to do with you, sorry if I gave you that feeling and I guess I should explain why I am being this quiet.”

I nodded and waited for her to continue. 

"I've seen you before, like even before we bumped into each other at the Starbucks.”

That made me frown. "Really? when, where?”

Delphine shrugged. "Well, it was the annual summer film-festival opening.”

A blush crept up onto my face. That had been a rough day for me, I wondered whether she'd seen me cry.

"Okay," I replied cautiously.

"So, there was this movie playing and I saw you and you cried.”

I snorted softly. Of course.

"That movie, it touched you, oui?”

"Obviously, I was crying, I hardly ever cry.” 

"I have to tell you something about that movie.”

I looked over and frowned. "What is it?”

"I made that movie, it's mine.”

For a long minute I stared at Delphine in stunned silence. No way that movie was hers. She would have said something sooner, wouldn't she? How could this be possible, the movie that changed my life, the person who had been making my life better, they were connected. In a way it made sense, in a whole other way it didn't, at all, it seemed impossible for two things so grand to be connected in such a fitting way. 

"What, how, you're not a film maker.”

Delphine looked a little sheepish as she answered. "I am, always have been, but on the side, which is why I like my freelance translating so much.”

"Why didn't you tell me?”

"Because I want to remain anonymous. I don't think a film suddenly gets better because you know who the creator is. This movie was one of my latest projects but I've been making movies my entire life. All I want for my films is to touch people, even if it's only one person at an entire festival. To be able to truly reach someone and make them feel the same way about life as me is something I've wanted to create my entire life.”

There was more staring and we remained quiet for a long while. The next movie started and I found myself staring at the screen while waves of emotion came over me again and again, making me feel like crying. I fought back the tears though. I fought hard and remained quiet for another full five minutes before I was able to bring forth my next words.

"Your movie changed my life Delphine. It truly did.”

A small smile crept onto her face and her cheeks flushed a little pink. She leaned in and kissed my cheek. "Those words mean the world to me.”

Her movie was shown last and it again touched me in ways I didn't know existed. Somehow the movie was even more moving than the previous time I’d watched it, perhaps because now I knew the person behind the movie. It made my heart race, it made my heart sink, I felt excitement and sadness, tears welled up in my eyes and every now and then a rare smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. I turned hot and cold at the same time (and I was convinced it wasn’t the cancer or its treatment doing that to me) and felt like the world was a little bit more beautiful. To me, her movie was truly a rollercoaster of emotions coursing through me, working its way through every vein, every muscle. The emotions rooted deep inside me and took me to places I'd never been before in my entire life. 

All during the movie Delphine held my hand and my gaze switched between the screen in front of me and her, she held her breath during the adrenaline-rush scenes and softly breathed out the moment the shot changed to a ‘home-scene’, which each one of these scenes her facial expression turned sad and tears threatened to spill across her eyelids. I wondered several times why the hell she wanted to remain anonymous but it suited her, she was a quiet enjoyer of life and her words had made sense, she wanted to show people what life could be like, how the little things were sometimes more beautiful than the things that were seen as grand. 

A little less grand was the night spent after that, I became feverish, probably from having been out all day, or should I say, all week. It had been too much for my body to handle and let’s be honest, being around crowds just wasn’t the smartest thing to do in my condition. That night I had several sweat attacks, followed by what felt like being-frozen-to-death attacks. They weren’t pleasant and after about two hours of moving about uncomfortably in my bed, I decided to check whether I had a temperature. Turned out I did and I immediately decided to call the hospital, because that’s what they had instructed me to do whenever something ‘out of the ordinary’ happened. Whatever that entailed was probably very broad, unstoppable nosebleeds, fevers, infections, basically anything bad enough that would make you want to be inside a hospital instead of at home. 

The nurse on the phone told me to come over the next day unless my fever got even higher. It didn’t but I also wasn’t able to close my eyes and fall asleep all night. Whenever that happened I just took showers, long showers because they usually made me feel a little better and a little cleaner after having sweated for three hours straight. The only good thing about being bald was that you could actually take off your hair and that made all the difference in the world. I imagined, were I to still have my hair, that it would be all greasy and matted together and tangled up into knots that were almost impossible to brush out. 

So I took a thirty minute shower on my shower-chair, where I just sat and stared at nothing in particular. There were thoughts though, many, many thoughts. Thoughts about me killing myself because this was just too much to take, especially because I knew things were going to get way worse than this. There were even more thoughts of Delphine and how it wouldn’t be fair to her if I would just end it all. Then that made me feel guilty because it also wouldn’t be fair to my parents, or Sarah or any of the others. Besides that, it would be the weak thing to do and I was not a weak person. Or so I had always thought. Now that I had cancer and had been thinking about killing myself over a dozen times per day when in the hospital, I had been forced to adjust my perception of myself a little. 

Perhaps there was a weakness inside me, a part of myself I hadn’t previous known existed, because I’d been too absorbed in my work to actually see it. It often made me wonder just how well I knew myself. Was I that blind to the person I was, the person I had become over the years? Twenty-six years old and I didn’t have the slightest idea who I truly was, what my core values were. I had always thought I knew, but during the previous weeks I’d learned otherwise. Perhaps because having cancer was more confrontational than I had ever thought it would be. It made me see myself in a different light, it made me think about life instead of work. During my time in the hospital I’d had hours and hours a day to just sit and stare at the white walls that now made me cringe to even think about. Soon I’d be spending more time between those walls, sitting, staring, thinking. Chemo, there’d be more poison coursing through my veins, making me feel sick, making me puke and sweat and want to kill myself even more. The thought made me cringe as I sat in the shower, on the chair that I’d sat on for over half an hour, the warm water pounding on my skin, making me feel numb, physically, not mentally. My thoughts kept on running from one topic to the next. 

After my shower I spent several hours lying in bed, there was more sweating, there were more thoughts but finally the moon chased the sun from the sky and light began creeping into my apartment. Knowing I had to go to the hospital later, I called Delphine the moment I thought calling someone was acceptable. I invited her over for breakfast and she accepted the invitation. She showed up about half an hour later. 

Thoughts of my return to the hospital later that day made me feel nauseous so I just pushed them aside as I watched Delphine prepare a royal breakfast, scrambled eggs, fresh fruit (washed thoroughly because that was important when you had cancer), French toast. She was even making some sort of apple pie that smelled even better that it looked and frankly speaking I’d give its look a solid A plus. I sat at my dinner table, in the background the melodic and vivacious music of the London Grammar sounded, making me feel at ease. It was familiar and comforting in times like this, but even more at times whenever Delphine wasn’t around, which was when I felt continuously restless and rather agitated. Which was why I appreciated Delphine’s presence so much, ever since finding out about my cancer there had been few moments spent in peace. Now, even when she stood cooking and was completely focused on the task of cutting fruit and turning French toast around in the pan I felt at completely at ease. 

I watched how my personal chef put the French Toast in the oven to keep them warm before speaking up. “Delphine, come sit with me please, I need to talk to you.” 

Delphine looked over her shoulder. “Give me a minute to clean up things here oui?”

I gave her a tight nod and continued to watch her as she threw away some things and put pans and utensils into the dishwasher. Finally, when my kitchen counter was squeaky clean, she poured herself some juice and came sitting opposite me. 

“What’s up?” 

“Well, I don’t know if you had planned to come over tomorrow but in case you had, I won’t be home, or the days after.”

“Oh, you going somewhere?” Delphine asked, frowning a little. 

My stomach churned a little in protest. I hated lying to her, despite the fact that it was better to lie than to tell her the truth at this point. Or at any point.

“Yes, I’m going to stay with my parents for a few days, my dad’s birthday is tomorrow.” 

At least that much was true. Only we wouldn’t be spending it at home like we usually did, we’d celebrate his birthday at the hospital where I’d be spending the entire time there staring at a too-white ceiling. Another thing NOT to look forward to, lying in hospitals is officially the lamest and most boring thing to do. 

Her face morphed into a look of disappointment. “Oh, all right.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Because my mother only just asked me this morning.”

If I were Pinocchio my nose would probably be the size of the largest tree in the world by now. 

“Oh.” 

“Are you mad?”

She shook her head slightly. “Non, non, not mad,” her face turned from disappointed to sad. “I realized I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“When will you be back?”

“Not sure, could be Tuesday or Wednesday.” 

It could even be Thursday or Friday if things god bad enough but if that would be the case I’d figure something out later, not now when I didn’t even know how I would be feeling by the end of the day. 

“Can I at least come by or pick you up to take you somewhere during those days.”

Panic started coursing through my body at her words. No, no, no! You can't because I'll be lying in the fucking hospital. How in the world was I going to get out of this one. I racked my brain for something to say but couldn't find the right words. 

"No," was the only thing I could bring forth. 

Delphine stared at me and then raked both hands through her curls in frustration. For a while she seemed to focus on her breathing. All the while I just sat there, staring at the woman in front of me whose face was contorted in emotional pain. Thoughts were swirling through her head, all of them visible in her eyes. I realized then that she was an open book to me, I really saw her for who she was. I wondered whether she saw me the same way I saw her but quickly decided that wasn't possible with all my lies and secrets. 

Delphine moved forward, leaning with her elbows upon her knees, she seemed to brace herself for something and inhaled sharply. "Cosima, are you ashamed of me?" she asked in a small voice that was probably supposed to have come out more powerful. 

Tears were forming in her eyes and all I wanted was to tell her the truth about everything but once again my thoughts of hurting her or worse losing her prevented me so instead, I got up and made my way over to the other side of the table, sat down next to Delphine and took her hands in mine. 

“Of course not, why would I be ashamed of you, if anything I’m proud to call you my friend.”

I could see disappointment flash through her eyes at my words and she pulled back her hands and sat back, creating distance. I automatically did the same thing, as if in protest. 

“How can you say we’re just friends, seriously?” she fumed, anger replaced the disappointment in her eyes and suddenly I wanted nothing so much as to go crawl into my bed, pull the covers over me and cry. 

“This, you and me, we are not just friends Cosima, we are more than that and you know it, I know you have feelings for me, you’re just too stubborn to admit it.” 

I sat in silence, unsure of how to reply. There was no good way to answer her words. Sure there were feelings that was undeniable, but how in the world could I ever voice them without hurting her. Not that I wasn’t hurting her now. This was just all so screwed up. All I had wanted was to be left alone to die and she came waltzing into my life, changing everything. My existence hadn’t been perfect but I had been all right with it and now suddenly there these voids that needed to be filled, voids that were only filled whenever she was around. I hadn’t asked for this, just like she hadn’t asked for falling in love with someone who was dying of cancer. It wasn’t fair to her, especially because I was the only one who knew it. She probably thought I was being difficult but that wasn’t it at all, she knew only half of it. Had I been healthy I might have actually given it a shot, it wouldn’t have been easy, with my inexperience in the love department but I probably would have done everything in my power to make it work. 

“Delphine,” I started and had to pause to gather my thoughts before I spurted out an incomprehensible trail of words. “It’s more complicated than that.” 

Something happened in Delphine’s expression, it seemed like suddenly a light bulb went on inside her head, her eyes widened slightly and she sighed in resignation. “Okay, I’ll give you time, you’ll come around.”

Where the hell had that come from? “What? Okay, wait what?”

“You need time to deal with this situation, until then I won’t push, I won’t make a move, I want it to be out of your own accord, if you’re ready you’re ready and I’ll be here.”

Well that had been easy, too easy and it didn’t make sense in the very least. It was like she had suddenly remembered something crucial and had changed her entire tactics on the spot, from confrontation to leaving it all up to me. Women were the weirdest. Ever. Period. 

Early that afternoon I went to the hospital with a feeling of dread rooted deep in the pit of my stomach. It was a feeling I couldn’t shake. After having spent a week and a half at home, without being probed and injected and stuffed with poison, it was difficult accepting the fact that it wasn’t over, by a long shot. Even if this survived the next rounds of chemo, the first one that started somewhere during next week, and I wasn’t convinced I would, chances were I would need yet more chemo in a year, which meant more months or even years of chemo therapy of puking and feverish nights. 

Ever since finding out I had leukaemia one thought had been prominently filling up my head. Was it all worth it? Was I worth it, was the life I’d lead so far worth it? Even though my body might be strong enough to go through dozens of chemo sessions, would my mind be able to keep up the pace as well? Was I willing to go through that kind of torture again? My parents were convinced I was, but I sure as hell wasn’t. The thought of jumping off a roof was often more appealing than another round of chemo. Especially when it wasn’t even sure whether I would live through the next five years. A large percentage of people with leukaemia died within the next five years after being diagnosed with the cancer. Which didn’t make me very hopeful. Cancer’s a bitch. Or I’m cancer’s bitch, whatever you feel like.

My doctor had encouraged me to join some sort of support group, because talking about cancer was a good way to come to terms with it, after being faced with the death of my first cancer-friend, I’d stopped going. It didn’t do anything for me other than show me death was imminent, even in the ones stronger than me. If anything, it proved to me leukaemia was practically unbeatable. Thoughts like that made me wonder whether I had always been so negative. I couldn’t remember. 

My mother had picked me up at eleven-forty-five, only half an hour after Delphine had left and though she had put on a smile, I could see that she was worried. My mother promised me that my father would join us at the hospital somewhere in the afternoon, which probably meant he was pretty worried too because he hadn't come to visit me in the hospital very often during my previous time there. He absolutely abhorred hospitals though he had never told me why. I suspected it had something to do with his father and his father in law dying of cancer in the hospital but it could have been something else entirely as well. 

I had felt nauseous all the way to the hospital, even though I knew I wouldn’t be having chemo. Apparently it’s normal for your body to make associations between hospitals and puking after having had chemo so I felt pretty crappy all the way there. My mother kept asking me if I was all right and put her hand on my forehead every two minutes to check whether my temperature had gone up, which totally made me feel like a child, especially because I had checked right before she had picked me up and it hadn’t gone up since the evening before, it hadn’t gone down either. Lucky me. 

The minute I walked into the hospital some kind of weird anxiety came over me, I was sure it had something to do with the chemo from the month before, and I had to lean on my mom to actually get to the oncology department where I was assigned to a room where they took my temperature again and did some tests. Once they had determined I wasn’t dying they told me to put on my pyjamas and to get comfortable. Like one ever gets comfortable inside a freaking hospital. As before, I didn’t have a roommate, which I liked because I didn’t feel like sharing cancer stories with anyone other than nobody. 

My mom stuck around for a while but I sent her home after she became a little too fussy, which drove me nuts. Seriously, I loved my mom to death, she was one of the few people I could handle for longer than an actual hour, but my gosh, that woman had turned into an unprofessional nurse since her daughter had been diagnosed with cancer, discussing things with doctors and nurses like she had actually worked there her entire life. Plus there was the part where she offered to help undress me and naturally the encouraging words when I had to swallow medication and obviously the continuous checking-for-temperature on the forehead (at a certain point she actually suggested to the doctor to stuff a thermometer in my ass herself to get the best result). After that I kicked her out. There was only so much I could take. She came back a couple of hours later with my father. His presence always had a good calming effect on her. She acted less like a nurse and more like a mother. 

In the end I spent two nights in the hospital before I was released, only to have to return the next week. We celebrated my father’s birthday in the hospital, which was a sad and uncomfortable happening. They brought cake, I asked my mother to buy a bottle of expensive Scotch so I could give it to him (which was a tradition). We talked, we sang a happy-birthday song, they went home eventually and once they were gone I thought that this very well might have been the last time I’d ever celebrate my father’s birthday and just how fucked up their next birthdays would be once I’d died. That made me feel so sad I couldn’t stop crying all evening and night. 

The only good thing that happened during those two-nights-two-whole-and-two-half-days at the hospital, was that during my last day my father came for a visit and to take me home by himself, which was a rare and precious moment. My dad and I weren’t often alone together and yet every single time we did spend time together, I’d vouched I’d take him to places by myself more often. As usual though, life had happened, or rather work had intervened and it hadn’t happened, which was why the last time we spent time together had to have been at least two years earlier. After my dad had put me in the car he took me to the ocean, which was a two-hour drive I spent sleeping, and according to my father, snoring, in the seat next to him. I didn’t believe him though, I wasn’t a snorer. Not that anyone had ever been in the position to tell me, so what did I know. 

Once we arrived at our destination we went to have lunch in the harbour, at a restaurant we’d gone to very often when I was younger. My father, like me, had a passion for water and we spent hours sitting together, watching the waves hit the sandy beach. I loved its continuity, it went on like this forever, never once pausing, no matter what happened. People had little to no influence on the ocean, on its tides. It was a hypnotic sight and it was great to be spending time with my father. We didn’t talk much, didn’t have to, he was one of the few people I could spend time with without having to talk all the time. 

Don’t get me wrong, we talked, about his work, about my cancer, about my work and I even told him about the movie that had made me decide to have the treatment after all. I hadn’t even told my mom that because I didn’t think she’d understand. My father and I were the same kind of people, we understood each other without having to use too many words. We shared a connection that my mother didn’t understand and had always been envious of. 

The day with my dad went by fast and I spent the ride home fast asleep again, he brought me home and put me in bed without me waking once. I woke up somewhere during the night and felt slightly disoriented, I realized my dad had to have tucked me in, like he used to do when I was younger and I had fallen asleep again with a rare warmth inside my heart.


	7. SEVEN

A couple of days after being released from the hospital I was getting ready for Sarah’s birthday party. I’d bought her a gift online, some sort of bag she had been whining about for months and it sat all wrapped waiting for me on the dinner table while I was carefully considering what to wear. I ended up wearing some black jeans and two sweaters because it made me look a little fuller than I actually was. It was a tactic I’d used before and it worked, a little anyway.

Delphine and I hadn’t spoken much during the past week. She also hadn’t come over, which officially had made this weak a bad one in my book. Obviously I hadn’t seen her when at the hospital, but after that, and I had explicitly told her I was home again, she hadn’t showed up at my doorstep uninvited with dinner in one hand and a series or movie in the other once. I figured that perhaps she was still unhappy about our last conversation, the one we had before I had to go to the hospital. Thinking back to that talk still gave me a bad feeling. Especially considering the fact that I would be seeing her tonight. I wondered whether she would be angry with me, because that would most likely ruin my entire evening. Then, what was ruining one evening compared to ruining her entire life with my cancer. 

I’d been having guilt trips ever since going into the hospital, going back and forth from needing Delphine in my life to shutting her out because it was best for her. Coming Sunday, the day before I had to report back for chemo duty, we’d be going to another film festival, after that I probably had to tell her that we couldn’t be friends. It would be easy enough for me since I’d be spending the next month in the hospital again so I couldn’t be confronted with her for at least four weeks, I wouldn’t be exposed to her pain and tears. I could just walk away (to the hospital and lie in bed all four weeks and cry). It would be the best possible thing to do, for her. Obviously I would be doing it for her, not for myself. I began to feel sick of myself and focused on applying some make-up to look at least a little less pale.

I arrived at the party around nine and it was more crowded at Sarah’s apartment than ever. Her parties were always quite extravagant but this party was even more so. The music was blaring loudly, drowning out the sound of pleasant conversation and laughter. Everywhere I looked people stood closely huddled together, people made googly eyes at each other and flirted their asses off. This was not my world anymore, their worlds existed of flirting with boys or girls, or both, they spent their money on shopping and clubbing. 

For the first time in months or even years, I actually felt alone. Half an hour after arriving, I found myself sitting my best friend’s birthday, realizing my life was filled with cancer and chemo treatments and people who didn’t even realize that there was a great chance I might not be around anymore next year. It gave me a strange feeling. After having been practically alone my entire life, I had never felt lonely before. Until now. I felt like a complete stranger among a group of people I recognized, but realized I had nothing in common with. The only people I felt a real connection to were Sarah, who was entertaining her guests and Delphine, who wasn’t here yet. 

Sarah stood in the kitchen, pouring wine into red Dixie cups, a group of eager boys surrounding her, trying to get her attention. Sarah had always been a boy magnet, and a chick magnet whenever she felt like it. Somehow, people were always drawn to her in a way they weren’t drawn to me, people rarely came up to me, hence the fact that I was sitting here on the couch in the pleasant company of yours truly. It wasn’t exactly that Sarah was better-looking than me, because we actually really looked alike each other a lot, but my best friend had a charisma that attracted people to her like bees to honey. Sarah knew this and used this, often to her own advantage, which was something I didn’t particularly always like about her. Still, we’d known each other our entire lives and she was and always would be my best friend. No matter what kind of trouble she got herself in or what kind of stunt she pulled. 

Ever since I was young I’d had this group of friends, it wasn’t a big group, but we’d been together forever, we knew each other through and through. Over the years we’d been seeing a lot less of each other, because well, life had gotten in the way. There were jobs to think of, papers to write, relationships with possessive boyfriends and girlfriends. I had always been kind of the loner of the group, not entirely fitting into the group with my inspiration-spurts that could last weeks. During those periods of time, whether I was script-writing or painting, I was practically unreachable. My phone would die after a day and a half or so and I wouldn’t even notice until someone knocked on my door or until my inspiration ran out or more important, until my project was finished. 

During the past months I hadn’t had any inspiration, until I had met Delphine that is. Upon meeting her everything had changed. Having her in my life had changed many things, naturally there were the nice things we did together. That in combination with her presence gave me these amazing spurts of energy, but that wasn’t all. Her entire being was something special, something I had never seen before in my life and I had met my fair share of people. Delphine was a woman who could lift your heart by just smiling at you. Whenever she complimented you she actually meant it. She didn’t say it because she had alternative motives. 

I knew she had feelings for me, yet I knew she would never make a pass at me, because she wanted me to be the one to make the decision to kiss her. It was something I had never encountered in my life, usually people had just kissed me, for they had expected me to want it, when in fact I didn’t. How many people would just give you the opportunity to make up your mind on your own, on your own pace, without pushing you. In the end, people often just did something because it was something they wanted to do, without even considering whether the opposite party was ready for that same thing as well. It was something that had astonished me over the years, since that was not how my mind functioned. I always wanted to take things slow, consider my options, my wants and needs, before I actually got up to someone and kissed them. Perhaps that wasn’t exactly the way to go either, especially when I had to believe Sarah who kissed and fucked whoever showed the least bit of interest in her. I just wasn’t wired like that, nor did I want to be. 

Delphine somehow knew this and though she complimented me often and showed how much she liked me in little ways, like coming over with a movie in her hand that we had talked about watching only the day before, cooking meals that she thought I’d like. She was thoughtful and pleasant company. She gave me energy where I should have none. She made me feel warm on the inside. I knew she was in love with me and perhaps, in some way, I was a little bit in love with her as well. The thought made me smile inwardly. It also made me shake my head, for as I was sitting there at that lame-ass party, all I wanted was for her to be there.

As if on cue, the front door opened and she walked in, immediately looking around. I knew, because I’d been staring at the front door the entire time. Half wishing that it would open only to show Delphine, the other half of me wishing it were time to go home already. Apparently the first half won. Delphine’s eyes found mine and she stopped, smiled and made her way over immediately. Once again, I realized my heart was beating faster than usual at the sight of her. It was something I still hadn’t become used to. In a way, this was also one of the things on which I based my conclusion that I was at least a little bit in love with Delphine.

She came to a halt in front of me and offered me her hands to pull me up. I took her hands, they were warm as usual, and let myself be enfolded in her arms without a word. For a long moment we hugged. I inhaled her scent, shampoo mixed with expensive perfume and detergent. She smelled freshly showered and perfect. When someone tried to pass us, and ended up nudging Delphine in the back, we both took a step back, separating entirely too soon for my taste. My head moved automatically upward to look into her eyes. The mere sight of them made my heart lift a couple of inches inside my chest.

“Ça va?” she murmured. I couldn’t actually hear her words but had become used to the way her lips formed when she spoke the two words that to me, contained so very much. It wasn’t a simple ‘what’s up,’ it was a meaningful ‘how are you? But really?’ 

“Good, now you’re here anyway. You?”

Lips curled into a smile she only gave me and the expression in her eyes turned soft and kind.   
“Ça va bien, merci,” she said as she gently squeezed my upper arm. “So, why are you sitting here by yourself, aren’t you having fun?” 

A frown replaced her gentle expression from before and I knew she was concerned rather than judging. She gestured for me to sit down and I plopped down on the couch. Delphine sat down next to me, a little more gracious. She sat close, our legs touching lightly. She turned a little more toward me and put her arm behind me on the couch, her arm bent so she could cupped her cheek with her head as she spoke to me. 

“Well, it just occurred to me that I don’t have much in common with these people.”

“Why is that?”

I thought about that for a moment and many unkind reasons came to mind. Their shallowness, their selfishness, their lack of integrity. Was that really it though, wasn’t it the fact that these people actually had something to live for. Maybe I was jealous because they actually had all of their lives in front of them and they didn’t even fully realize it while I sat here on the couch, thinking about cancer and chemo treatments and Delphine and the fact that I might not ever get to live the way they do and have been. Had I actually been living up until I met Delphine? Did I waste all those years before, thinking I’d been living when in fact I hadn’t, not really anyway. Would I die without having lived? 

I shrugged and looked away, knowing my eyes would have filled with pain and regret. Delphine lifted her hand and used it to pull my face back into her direction by putting it under my chin. “Talk to me,” she said in such a gentle tone it made my stomach roil.

“I am wondering whether I have been really living.”

“Pourquoi?”

I wasn’t sure how to put the incoherent strain of thought into correct English sentences, so much was going on inside of me that my head was practically spinning in confusion and emotion. “These people, they’re all living and all I’ve been doing up until now is work and now I’m about to …,” I almost said ‘die’ but swallowed it before the word had passed my lips. 

“You’re about to what?” 

I wasn’t sure how to continue my sentence without spilling my deepest and darkest of secrets so I stayed quiet for a moment and looked at the people in front of me. There was much to look at and it was so very obvious that these people knew how to enjoy themselves. Had my existence been nothing other than surviving? Perhaps having leukaemia was a test, a test for me to see just how meaningless my entire life up until now had been. What a cruel test it was to give me, not even because it was cancer. Let’s face the fact that cancer nowadays is curable and therefore survivable, but my kind of cancer, my fifteen percent chance of being alive after five years, that was no good way to test someone. It was a way to show someone they hadn’t really been living but it was difficult to fight when the future was so bleak. It was easier to give up everything and just accept the fact that life was not for you. 

“Nothing, I’m just a little down.”

Delphine stared at me and it was obvious she didn’t believe a word I’d just said. She didn’t push though and nodded. Movement to my left made me look away from Delphine’s intense stare and I watched Sarah and Felix sit down on the couch next to Delphine. 

“Hello ladies, enjoying the party?” Sarah asked, kissing Delphine on the cheek. I watched how Felix leaned over Sarah to do the same. 

“I only just arrived but it looks like everyone is having fun.” 

I nodded but didn’t respond. 

“Yesterday was so much fun, Cosima, it’s too bad you weren’t there” Felix said, the look on his face a little too innocent. 

“Is that right, good for you, glad you had fun.” I had no idea that they’d even gone somewhere. I hadn’t been invited. Probably on probation still for bad behaviour. 

“Yeah, did Delphine tell you? She met someone.” 

That sparked my attention and I looked aside at Delphine whose face had just flushed as red as a strawberry, she shot Felix a look and even Sarah frowned at her brother. 

So that was why I hadn’t been able to get a hold of her today, had she been with someone today? “No, she didn’t tell me.”

“Oh, all right, well, her name is Haley, she was gorgeous, she’s coming tonight too so I’m sure you’ll meet her later, in fact, I had expected her to be here already,” Felix said, making a show out of looking around her to see if Delphine’s new love interest had already showed her face. 

Delphine looked at me with panic in her eyes but said nothing. 

She shot a look at Felix. “Why did you invite her?”

“Well, because you seemed to hit it off yesterday. The two of you kissed right?”

My heart had already started racing when the name Haley had been mentioned but at hearing they had kissed my mouth went dry and my head started spinning. She’d kissed someone else, she was obviously not as into me as I had thought or she could have gone an evening without kissing someone else. 

My entire being was suddenly in an internal struggle. On the one side, my realistic side said to me 'wasn't this what I had wanted, for her to not have feelings for me because it wouldn't hurt her so much in the end'. Yet at the same time, my more dominant, unrealistic side yelled loudly 'she's fucking mine god damnit, I might not be kissing her, but obviously I have some sort of feelings for you, do you really have to kiss someone else while I'm trying to figure it all out'. The thoughts made me laugh inwardly, no matter how you look at it, I was being unfair, even if my emotional attachment to Delphine meant I actually had feelings for her. We would have no future, I had nothing to offer her but hurt and a funeral. 

I smiled at Delphine and tried my best to keep the same amount of smile on my face. “Good for you, I'm looking forward to meeting her, I'm curious to know what kind of person qualifies as your type of woman, especially since you’re not into women, or so you claim.” 

Delphine stared at me, looking hurt, Sarah looked truly puzzled and a bit angry. Felix just gloated. It made me feel so uncomfortable I got up. "Well I'm up for another drink.”

About ten minutes later I had found myself a quiet spot to sit and think without being interrupted by anyone, I'd gotten myself a bottle of scotch, stolen myself a joint, along with a lighter and I had climbed out of the window, onto the fire-escape, where I'd climbed up, all the way to the roof. One summer, a couple of years back when I was looking for a new apartment, having been kicked out of my old one. Sarah had offered for me to stay at her place. Since I hadn't wanted to go and live with my parents for the summer I'd accepted, not realizing just how many boys and girls Sarah took home with her. Especially that month, after having her heart broken by Cal, she'd slept with someone different almost every night. 

During those nights there had been a lot of noise, apparently two women together feel the need to scream and shout louder than the other, which kind of makes for awkward breakfast situations the next day. A boy and a girl together made the bed hit the wall every other second, which was to be heard through the entire house. So, after over a week, I'd found myself a spot on the roof where I'd spent most of my time, where I'd even slept a couple of times because hearing my friend fuck someone had been just too freaking much for me to handle for ten nights straight. Who in the world had the energy to fuck a different person each night for such a long period of time. I couldn't even imagine having sex with someone for two nights in a row but then again, I had never really been a sexual person. 

One day about three years ago I'd voiced those thoughts out loud when at a dinner party and in the company of a group existing of seven other women, most of whom had been at Sarah's dinner party a few weeks back and they had all stared at me with big eyes, several commenting that I probably had never had good sex or that I just hadn't met the right person. The conclusion of that conversation had been clear 'Cosima is weird for not liking sex'. Later on Sarah told me it wasn't strange, confessing that it had taken her several years before she truly enjoyed having sex. She'd asked me whether I had given up on love and relationships at a certain point, because I hadn’t been with anyone intimately in years. It had taken me a while to answer that questions. First of all, I wasn’t sure whether I actually believed in love. Also, I wasn’t convinced I was relationship material. I wasn’t into the kissing, into sleeping with other people, being naked around them.

When confessing all of these thoughts with Sarah she had told me about a friend of hers who had the same issue, she just didn't like having sex, until she had met this one guy, a guy she'd married a year after they'd met and who she'd had amazing sex with. That had made me smile a little and it had made me wonder whether that was the way it would go with me as well. Sarah had kindly called it special-person-sexual, which meant you would only get turned on by the one person that belonged with you. During the first year it had given me a little burst of hope, perhaps someday I would be like the rest of the world, enjoying sexy times with someone who was my special-someone. The more months passed though, the more hope I'd lost, until about a year ago, when I had actually given up on ever meeting someone. 

And then Delphine had come into my life, like the whirlwind she was and she was the first person ever to make me feel anything other than the numbness that had taken root in my body ever since I had been young. I wasn't sure whether Delphine was my special person, in the way Sarah's friend had found hers, but she made me want to live which was more than I could say about any other person in my life. Besides, I had no idea what being in love was supposed to feel like, because I'd never felt it before in my life. 

Friends had told about being in love but it had been different for each and every one of them, some had felt this need to constantly be with the person they were in love with, while yet others had been comfortable enough with the other to not need to spend every second of the day together, still others had known straight away they were going to marry their boy or girlfriend and others had needed to grow into love. All in all, falling in love was something that didn't have rules or guidelines so I just couldn't figure out whether what I was feeling, was love or just an intense friendship. 

When I reached my spot I sat down on the ground in the back of the building, it was a little secure place where people usually didn't think to go, but it was easily one of the best places in the city. It had an amazing view of the city's skyline and the sundown, which was one of my favourite moments of the day. Luckily for me, the sun was on its way to move behind the horizon, leaving the sky a beautiful palette of colours, purple met pink met orange and finally blue in the far background. These were the moments I had always lived for. Perhaps I hadn't known love, but I'd seen immensely beautiful things in the world. While I watched the sun move slowly behind the horizon I poured the stolen scotch into the red Dixie cup, popped a cigarette in my mouth without lighting it and waited for the sky to turn blue and finally black. 

Before that happened I heard someone call out my name. I immediately recognized the voice as Sarah's. It made me smile because I knew that she was aware of where I was but always was kind enough to announce her arrival.

"I'm here" I replied. 

Sarah came to me and sat down next to me, folding her long legs so she sat comfortably without showing her undies. She was wearing a short dress. "Well hello.”

"Hi.”

"Long time no see.”

"Indeed, about twenty minutes now I'm guessing.”

"Too freaking long to go without my best friend at my own birthday party.” 

I smiled and squeezed her leg. "Care for some scotch?”

Sarah nodded and held out her cup. "So, what are you doing up here?”

"Sitting, watching the sundown.” 

"All right, so, want to tell me about what's going on between you and Delphine?”

I shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about.” 

Sarah cocked an eyebrow at me and pulled a face. "How about you cut the crap, something is going on with you and you're suddenly spending all of your time with Delphine.”

"So what?" I barked, using my defensive tone.

"Cosima, what the fuck, why are you being defensive? Why don't you just fucking tell me what's going on instead of shutting me out all the time, it's getting kind of old you know, I'm your best friend, we've known each other our entire lives and now you're acting like this person I don't even recognize.” 

Guilt bubbled up inside my stomach and flowed all the way through my body, giving me an immediate headache. I couldn't tell her about my cancer, not tonight anyway and neither could I hint at something being the matter because she would literally push me until I'd tell her the truth and then I would still ruin her evening. No one ruins someone else's birthday, not even to tell that they're dying. Probably best to stay focused on Delphine, at least that was a safer topic than cancer.

"Are you in love with Delphine?”

I shrugged again and leaned my head back against the wall behind me. "I don't know.”

"She's in love with you, you know.”

"Yeah, I figured.”

"So what are you going to do about it?”

I shrugged. "Nothing I guess.”

"What? Why? She's like the most amazing person I've ever met.”

"Then why aren't you with her?” 

Sarah fumbled with the hem of her dress, her cheeks turning red, and pulled at a loose thread. "She rejected me the first night we met.”

That made me laugh. "No way, you never told me.”

"I know, I was embarrassed.” 

"Serves you right to be rejected for once, you got too cocky," I grinned. 

Sarah bumped her knee against mine but laughed along with me. "You officially suck as a best friend.” 

"I know, I'm sorry I've been so distant.”

"Are you going to tell me why the hell you look like shit all the time.” 

There was no way I was going to tell her, not tonight. A million thoughts came to mind and only one strain of thought seemed reasonable at the time. "I have Pfeiffer.”

Sarah's face turned mock-suspicious. "Who have you been kissing without telling me?”

Now it was my turn to bump my knee against my best friend's. "No one.” 

"Dude, seriously, why didn't you tell? We all thought you were dying or something.”

If only she knew. "I don't know, I guess I thought it wouldn't get so bad.”

"So how bad is it?”

"Pretty bad, I sleep like sixteen to eighteen hours a day.” 

"Fuck, that's insane, I take it Delphine knows.”

"Yeah, I kept falling asleep in her presence.”

Sarah grinned. "You sure you don't just find her boring?”

That made me laugh. "Delphine is definitely not boring, she's the most interesting person I've ever met in my life. She gives me so much energy.” 

My best friend smiled at me. "That's good, that's the way it's supposed to be.”

"The way what is supposed to be?”

Sarah rolled her eyes at me but smiled her small-loving-smile at me. "God you're clueless sometimes, figure it out.” 

For a long moment we sat in silence. “Sarah?”

"Yeah?”

"Did they really kiss?”

She shrugged. "I really don't know.” 

About twenty minutes later we went back to the party where music was still playing loudly and where people were getting drunker by the minute. The moment I had climbed through the window I looked around to find Delphine, I immediately found her, standing stiffly against the wall while a woman stood leaning toward her. She was a pretty woman, tall, dark-brown hair, big eyes, full-red lips, a body to die for, dressed very femininely. This woman, who obviously had to be Haley, was basically everything I was not. My stomach again started to object and my insides twisted and turned themselves into a tight knot. 

"You going over there?”

"Yes.”

"Why?”

"Got to be the bigger person and besides, what do I have to offer Delphine other than a person who is completely obsessed with work and herself. I have no experience when it comes to relationships, I don't even know what day it is most of the time, how in the world can I be with someone when my entire world has always resolved around myself. I better go over there and give them my blessing or something.”

"You will never know until you try and you know, if it's right, it's right.”

I shrugged.

"It's your life but Cosima, Delphine won't wait forever. I think you’re being a stubborn ass and a foolish one at that.”

For a long moment we stood glancing over to the corner where Delphine and Haley stood talking. "How do you even know if someone's the one? I don't even know what it's supposed to feel like to be in love.”

"What do you think being in love is supposed to feel like?” 

I shrugged "don't really know, everyone says something else.”

"That's because it feels different for everyone. If it's really love you'll know.”

We watched as Haley leaned toward Delphine, leaning all over her with her tall and super-slim body, she was obviously trying to seduce her. Yet Delphine didn't lean in to kiss her, she just looked away, still standing straight and stiff, her arms behind her back, her legs folded, she appeared to be so uncomfortable it made me feel uncomfortable. Her eyes travelled through the room and met mine and her facial expression changed immensely. It transformed from icy and distant to warm and lovingly. The look on her face made the knot in my stomach disappear like it hadn’t been there in the first place. Delphine pushed herself off the wall a little, making Haley take a step back and look in my direction as well. 

“Good luck,” Sarah murmured into my ear before I made my way over. 

You know that situation when you walk up to someone and when you first see them they are very attractive but the closer you get the less attractive they become. This was not it. If anything, the closer I walked up to the pair, the more beautiful Haley became. It was unfair to say the least. Especially when I thought of myself looking like a cancer patient. Why in the world would Delphine want to be with me? Not that she was the kind of girl that was superficial like that, but surely I wasn’t the biggest catch in town. She could do better than my lying ass. Right there and then I made the decision to not act upon my feelings for Delphine, no matter how good it felt to be with her, she deserved more than me and my impending death. 

When I approached the couple I immediately extended my hand in greeting. “Hi, you must be Haley, I am Cosima, a friend of Delphine.”

Delphine literally shuddered when I spoke the word friend. 

Haley turned a pair of big, brown eyes toward me and took my hand. “Hi, yes, I’m Haley, nice to meet you.”

A British accent. Of course. Could she be any more perfect? “So, are you having fun?”

“Yes, Delphine here is good company.”

“She sure it, isn’t she?”

“Cosima,” Delphine started saying softly.

I looked at her and frowned, interrupting her before she could continue her sentence. “What?”

She shook her head slightly. 

“So, I was thinking Delphine, I know we were supposed to go to that movie festival Sunday but I can’t make it, I have plans, so perhaps you can take Haley?”

Haley’s eyes brightened. “Oh, that would be amazing, I’ve been wanting to go for years, but never actually made it. Thanks,” Haley said in obvious delight. It made me want to puke. Preferably over her crazy-expensive looking dress. There was no puking during chemo-break though.

“No problem,” I almost barked. 

Delphine looked at me with puppy eyes and took my hand. “Excuse us for a moment,” she said and guided me away from Haley. She looked at me with a pained expression on her face. 

“I don’t want to go with her, I want to go with you.” 

“Well, I can’t.”

“That’s bullshit, you’ve been looking forward to this movie festival forever. So why don’t you tell me what this is really about?”

“What do you want from me Delphine?”

“I want you to tell me what’s going on with you.”

I shook my head. “That’s not what I meant, Delphine, what do you want from me, as a person.”

She thought about that for a moment and during those few seconds her expression softened. “I want to be your friend.”

“Do you just want to be my friend or do you want more?”

“Honestly?”

“Yes.”

“I want to be with you, like really, really be with you.” 

I nodded and ignored the sharp stabs of pain in my heart that felt like daggers were being twisted round and round in my chest. “I can’t give you that.” 

“Why not?”

Because my second round of chemo starts on Monday and if that isn’t successful, which is very likely, my future will look even bleaker than is does right now. You should just stay away while you can, this has been going on for too long anyway. I should have let you go the moment I realized you were in love with me. 

“Because I’m not that kind of person, I don’t want to date a woman or anyone for that matter, you should take Haley, get to know her, she seems like a nice person but get the idea of you and me out of your head. I don’t think we should be spending so much time together anymore so I’ll see you around.” 

While I had been speaking, tears had welled up in Delphine’s eyes. She was holding on to my wrists painfully hard, it would definitely leave bruises. “You can’t do this to me, you’re in love with me too, I know you are, you’re not making any sense. Please Cosima, don’t do this to me. I don’t want Haley, I want you. Don’t do this.”

Frustration and anger welled up deep inside me, not because of what she said but because I knew I was hurting her and thought it was the last thing I wanted to do on this entire planet. Still, it was better than the prospect of her losing me because of the cancer thing. If we would actually get together, we would grow ever so much closer, she’d have to go through the difficult process of me being treated for leukaemia with chemo, then through the process of me dying and finally, I would die. If I really died, which was the most likely prospect at the moment, she would have to live with that for the rest of her life, but even if I didn’t die, the chance of me relapsing was so immense, the fear we’d constantly live in and for what. For her to be hurt even more in a couple of years because eventually I’d still die. 

It kind of felt like a situation from the movies, when someone breaks up with their boyfriend but more often girlfriend, because the heartbreaker feels like he is not good enough for his girlfriend or because he feels like she deserves more. Or even because, and in this case it’s often the girl breaking up with the boy, because her parents feel like the boyfriend isn’t good enough for their daughter and for her to end the relationship or summer romance. Am I still making sense? In the ‘A walk to remember’ sense, which is more applicable to my current situation, the girl tells the boy beforehand not to fall in love with her, she doesn’t give a reason, but obviously he falls for her and in the end she dies. 

Sorry total spoiler alert if you haven’t seen the movie, but you know, at least the boy in the movie, there’s also a book and obviously it’s better than the movie, but the boy becomes a better person in the end. Now that doesn’t apply to my situation, Delphine is already a well-rounded individual, she’s a good person that has so much to offer, she doesn’t need me to show her life is beautiful after all, she already knows that. There’s just nothing I can offer her but pain and grief and I like her too much to give that to her, I’d rather live in pain for another couple of months or years without her, which means sparing her pain, than pull her into my mess of a life and be the cause of her hurting for the rest of her life. 

I pulled away my fists and shook my head. “I’m not in love with you Delphine, I don’t want to end up with you, go on your date Sunday and forget about me, that would make me very happy.”

“And what about my happiness?” Delphine practically yelled, people were starting to pay attention to us, especially Sarah, Felix and Haley. They stood staring at us with their mouth agape, confused looks in their eyes for various reasons probably. 

I took a step toward Delphine, kissed her on the cheek, inhaled her scent for the last time, closed my eyes and sighed deeply. “I don’t care about your happiness.”


	8. EIGHT

The rain had been pouring from the sky ever since the moment I had woken up and for a long time I just lay on my couch, staring out of the window, watching the enormous amounts of water stream down and pool in the alley next to my house. It had been raining all night and day since getting home from the party and it kind of complemented my poor mood. A day, it had been only been a day but it felt like it had been a week since that party. 

Delphine had called me over a dozen times already, she’d stood at my door at least three times, I’d deleted over ten long and painful messages, five equally hurtful voicemails that had made me cry for hours. At a certain point it had become so painful that I had asked my mother to come pick me up, so I could stay at my their place for the night. It had been a relief, to be picked up by my mother, to leave my phone behind so the battery would die and no one would know where I was. 

I had been on edge the entire weekend. My mother had regularly asked me what was going on and I had repeatedly answered ‘nothing’. My father thought it was the start of my second round of chemo and gently asked my mother to back off. At a certain point they just stopped asking and let me be. My mother had picked me up somewhere after noon and I’d spent the day in bed until the next day. Sunday I asked to be taken back home, which obviously wasn’t practical because my mom would have to come into town to pick me up the next morning, but I told my mother I wanted to spend at least one day at home before I had to remain in the hospital for another four long weeks. 

I was not looking forward to it for obvious reasons. The thought of puking my guts out again and again during the two week during and after chemo was not to be enjoyed. After the puking came the emotional outbursts, during which I cried most of the day until the outburst ended and I just felt empty and hollow, not even the least bit like myself. My thoughts then became blurred and made no longer made sense anymore. When I looked in the hospital mirror (with terrible lighting) I saw someone who vaguely resembled me but wasn’t me, it was unsettling and exhausting. I often tried to avoid looking in the mirror, especially on those days, because the sight of myself only made me want to die, on the spot preferable. Unfortunately I still didn’t have the power to stop my own heart. 

When my doctor had one day mentioned relapsing and starting another course of treatment in case the first one wouldn’t take, my mother had immediately hit the table with her fist and exclaimed I would do whatever it took to get better. Over the past weeks I had come to the realization that I would do anything it took not to start another round of chemo, even if that meant dying. Obviously I hadn’t told my mother because she would personally stick the needle in my body if she needed to but the thought had come to mind more and more often of late. 

I would only voice those thoughts once my doctors concluded my second round of chemo hadn’t worked and that was still a good ways off, four weeks. Chemo during round two would again exist of ten days of chemo, during which the same unpronounceable poison would flow abundantly through my weakened veins. During those lovely days I would be in bed all day long, which was good, because I’d gone over to the oncology-chemo-therapy-floor and had seen the people there. I wasn’t allowed to have chemo there because the possibility for me to get infections became infinitely worse if around other people. So I was practically quarantined for about a month.

So anyway, when I had visited the oncology department everywhere I had looked (okay, that is not true) people would sit in comfortable recliners, blankets wrapped around their emaciated bodies, young and old, black and white, men and women. Cancer didn’t discriminate, cancer didn’t care whether your life was amazing or worth shit, whether you had health care or not. It was a demon that taunted you until you fought hard enough to live or just gave up because you could no longer hold on to the beautiful things in life or simply because you just didn’t care enough to hold on. In the end cancer was a master that decided over your fate, whether you wanted it or not.

With Delphine out of my life, the little resolve to live I’d mustered since meeting her, had dissipated abruptly the moment I had decided to let her go. Life without her just somehow didn’t really make any sense so what was the point in staying alive. My doctor would probably kill me would I ever dare to say such a thing out loud, my mom would probably beat doctor B. to it though. 

My phone ringing brought me out of my train of thoughts and into reality. When I looked at the screen I saw my best friend's smiling face popping up. Why would Sarah be calling me? 

"Hello," I picked up.

"Cosima, don't hang up but I've got to talk to you about Delphine.”

I shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "About what?”

"Well, your crappy behaviour for starters.” 

"What do you want me to say?”

"Why in the world you'd push her away like you did, she's been a wreck all weekend.”

A pang of guilt worked its way through my stomach. "Has she been with you?”

"Yes, she's been staying with me most of the time, except when she tried to get you to open your fucking door, what's wrong with you.” 

"I wasn't home.”

Sarah laughed scornfully. She knew very well that I didn’t have a lot of places to go. So her next question was expected. "Where the hell did you go?”

"My parents' place.” 

"Why? You hate it there.”

I might have hated staying there in the past, but obviously things had changed. Not that I would tell that to Sarah. "Because she stood at my doorstep all weekend.”

"You could have just talked to her.”

I shrugged to myself and laid back down on the couch, looking outside, seeing the rain still hadn't let up one bit. It was raining cats and dogs, exactly the way I liked it. 

"You have to talk to her.”

"Is she there with you, is that why you're calling, so we can talk?" I said, my voice dripping with accusation. 

"No, she left about an hour ago, to go on a date you made her go on.” 

She still went on that date with Haley, I suddenly felt like crying, but fought back the tears desperately, this had been my plan, I had wanted her to go. 'Suck it up'. I looked at the clock and saw it was almost four, that meant the first movie of the festival was about to start. La vie d'Adele, a movie I'd desperately wanted to see because I'd heard crazy good stories about it. A shame that I wouldn't be able to see it on the big screen. 

Someone knocked on my front door, making me sit back up again. "Is that you Sarah, seriously, I'm not in the mood for company.”

"Just open the fucking door," she said and hung up the phone. 

A low growl escaped my throat as I got off the couch and headed over to the front door, opening it with the words. "You're a bitch.” 

"Well, so are you?" someone with a French accent replied.

"Delphine, sorry, I thought you'd be Sarah.”

The realization suddenly hit me, they'd obviously had thought of this plan together, for Sarah to call me so she could pretend to be standing on my doorstep, so I'd actually open my door. Devious people these days. 

I looked at Delphine, who, for the first time in her life, looked like shit. Dark circles had formed around her eyes, she was dripping-wet with the rain, her usually, springy hair now stuck to her face in thick strands. The little make-up she usually wore was running a little. Her jeans were soaked through all the way and her jacket didn't look exactly waterproof. The look on her face was sad all the way, which made me feel guilty as hell. I didn't want to see her hurt in any way. 

While pulling the door a little more open, I took a step back, inviting her in. "Let me get you a towel and a dry set of clothes.” 

I spun on my heels and headed over to my bedroom where I got a towel, a pair of sweatpants, a sweater, some socks and a pair of boxer shorts. When I returned Delphine had kicked off her shoes and shrugged off her jacket. I took it from her and handed her the pile I'd been holding. 

"Go to the bathroom, you can hang the rest of your clothes there to dry.” 

Delphine nodded and I watched her walk awkwardly toward my bedroom, through which she'd have to go in order to reach my bathroom. I hung her wet jacket over a chair in my work area and went about the task of making tea. 

When Delphine finally emerged from my bedroom again, she looked better and at least a little dryer, except for her hair which did look springy again but it was still wet. I'd gone back to sit on the couch with two mugs of streaming-hot tea and waited for her to sit down next to me. 

"You're supposed to be watching La Vie d'Adele.” 

"Have you seen the weather? Besides, I'm not letting you pimp me out on some date I don't want to go on," Delphine said, frowning a little at me while she picked her usual flavour of tea, vanilla. 

I bit my lip and looked away from the scrutinizing look she gave me, focussing on my tea, letting the bag bounce up and down to give off more flavour. 

"You really are a bitch, you know that right?”

"Yes," I said admittedly. 

"Why would you do that to me?”

"Felix said...”

"Fuck what Felix said, he just tried to get a raise out of you and it worked.”

I looked up from my tea and pulled a face. "What are you talking about?”

"Wow, you really are clueless sometimes.” 

That seemed to be the best way to describe me, for my friends at least, clueless. It was starting to become a theme. "Why?”

"All right, so you know Shay, right? Your friend, his best friend?”

“Yes,” I replied cautiously, unsure where this was going. 

“Shay is in love with you, she's even told me, she's in love with you, has been for years. Felix knows this and has been trying to push you two together.”

"But she's never said anything.”

"Would it have changed anything?”

"No.”

"Exactly, she knows that. But anyway, Felix noticed how we were getting close and thought this was the perfect move to push us further apart so there’d be room for the two of you.”

Suddenly I started laughing, Shay being in love with me was probably the stupidest thing I'd ever heard. I believed Dephine's words, but I'd never even flirted with Shay, I wasn't even sure whether I actually liked her as a person. Delphine looked up at me in surprise. 

"Why are you laughing?”

"Because her being in love with me is ridiculous, we've seriously never even really talked or anything, she doesn't know me at all. She’s not my friend, she’s more of an acquaintance.”

"Sometimes you don't have to know someone through and through before you know you're in love with them," she said meaningfully. She looked at me cautiously, as if waiting for my reaction. 

"I know what you mean.” 

For a long moment we looked at each other. I didn't know Delphine that well, yet I was in love with her and I knew she was in love with me. We'd been in each other's lives for only a short few weeks but that didn't mean I didn't know how amazing she was. That didn't change the fact that my heart started racing the moment I saw her, that my heart skipped a beat and longed for her to put her lips on mine whenever she bit her lip sensually. 

"Anyway, maybe she's in love with the idea of you.”

"And what does that mean.”

"Well, you're attractive, you're strong and proud yet mysterious, you never seem to give all of yourself, some people are into that.” 

I gave another shrug. "It's still retarded.” 

Delphine smiled and sipped from her tea, then her smile faded. 

"What is it?” I asked gently.

"You hurt me Cosima, you hurt me badly and I don't understand why. Well, that's not true, I think I understand but I'd like you to explain it to me. Know that I am here for you, I will not leave, not ever, I am here and I am yours.”

A big part of me wanted to tell her, to have an ally in my battle, someone to tell me everything would be all right, someone to love me through it all, someone to hold me at night when otherwise I would cry myself to sleep. I wanted more than anything for that person to be Delphine, she was everything I wanted. The entire world could end for that matter, as long as I could spend my last time with her. It was a strange realization but not one that hadn't been on its way. 

Looking back, which is easy to say I know, it was obvious to me that I'd fallen for Delphine the moment she bumped into me at the Starbucks, still, everything had been falling apart around me and I had not wanted to pull her into my destructive existence. In the end though, was it really my choice? She'd said she'd never leave. That had to mean something right? Perhaps telling her would be the biggest mistake I ever made, perhaps she would break her promise and leave but at least I would have been honest with her and she would have made her own decision, not me. Her leaving out of her own accord, because she couldn't handle my situation, was better than me forcing her to stay away, never knowing what might have happened. It was the not knowing that made me feel so afraid of losing her. There was still, after all, the possibility that she might stay. 

Right then I made another silent promise to Delphine. My second promise in what, two days? Three? I wanted to shake my head at myself. I’d stick to this one. I would tell her, she deserved that. Still, the selfish side of me just needed her at least another day around. I didn't know how to tell her or even what to tell her but I would. Tomorrow, before the chemo started once more, I would tell her, she had the right to know. 

It felt like a heavy burden had just fallen off my shoulders. It was the right thing to do. Being selfish hadn't made anything better, it had led to us both having a horrible and lonely weekend. If she would leave, I'd probably have a lot of horrible months while she would probably had a couple of shitty weeks. Still, it would have been her decision, not mine and in the end, that was all that mattered. Somehow. For some reason.

"Would it be all right if I promise to explain everything tonight or even tomorrow?”

Delphine bit her lip in thought. "I guess that would be all right, but why not just tell me now?”

Because I’d like to pretend everything is all right, if only for a day. "Because I’d like to enjoy the rest of the weekend.” 

"It’s that bad oui?”

"Nah, it’s all right," I lied. 

Delphine looked at me skeptically, but apparently decided to let it go for she said nothing. "So, is there anything in particular you would like to do on this beautiful and sunny day?" she asked in a fake cheerful voice.

I turned my head toward the window, it was still raining. “Let me think about that.” 

After a while I decided to lie down, my head in Delphine’s lap. She automatically started stroking my upper arm.

"Too bad you don’t have a garden, I love sitting outside, under a .. what do you call it, a shelter of some sort.”

"You mean like a roof or an overhang of some sort.”

"Oui, I guess. I just love sitting outside and watch it rain.”

I grinned, then suddenly sat up. I had the perfect plan. "Grab your tea," I said and pushed myself off the couch, picking up my couch blanket as I went. 

Delphine looked up at me with sparkling eyes. "Where are we going?”

"Wait and find out, put your hood over your head, we’re going out, and maybe you should put on a jacket as well.”

We both put on our jackets and Delphine followed me to the front door, we went outside and walked to the back of the building, trying to stick to the shelter of the walls to remain dry. Once at the back I told Delphine to close her eyes and not peek. I wrapped the blanket around me and took her hand in mine after unlocking the iron-clad door in front of us, the mug of tea in my other hand. 

As usual it was stuck so I had to pull hard, it also creaked loudly when it opened and once again I reminded myself ask Dizzy, the neighbor, to take a look at it. Perhaps it just needed to be greased. 

I led Delphine to the stairway that lead up to the roof, pausing before the first step. "Watch your step here, we're going up the stairs.”

Delphine carefully stepped onto the stairs and started climbing after me, still holding my hand. When halfway up the stairs she asked me just how high the stairway was. 

"It's forty-three steps, we're about halfway, I'll tell you when we're there.” 

"This is scary, don't let me fall.”

"Never.”

Finally we arrived on the roof of the old fire station, I guided Delphine to the part of the roof that was covered by a large tarp, one that had been hung there last summer in case we wanted a little bit of shadow while sunbathing, not it would do as a roof, protecting us from the rain. "We're here, open your eyes.”

Delphine opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times, she looked about, excitement in her eyes that had grown big, like a child's on Christmas morning. She put her mug of tea down on the table and started walking around on the roof, my gaze followed her every move. With a smile on her face she pulled down the hood of her jacket, she leaned her head back to face the sky, her eyes were closed, she threw her hands up in the air. 

"Join me," she said to me.

"No way, it's raining.”

"Join me," she said again, yelling now. 

"No," I yelled back. 

Delphine dropped her arms and threw a fake-angry look at me. "Do I need to come get you?”

"Try me," I winked. 

She came running at me and there was no way I was fast enough to dodge her, she threw her arms around me and lifted me off the ground, carrying me into the rain where she put me down but continued to hold me tight into her arms. She looked into my eyes and smiled a smile so pure and beautiful it warmed my soul. There was no other way to describe the look on her face as perfectly happy and that in turn made me feel happy as well. 

Then she threw her head back again and faced the rain, I watched the drops of water splash onto her flawless skin, thick drops of water clung to her hair, to her eyebrows and eyelashes. She had never looked more pure than in that exact moment, not wearing any make-up and with a boyish grin on her face that made her look years younger. 

I wanted to kiss her, so badly it made every muscle in my body ache with longing. I didn’t act on the feeling, afraid to spoil the moment. So I just stood there and watched her enjoy the rain for several minutes, feeling the drops of rain soak through my jacket and sweatpants, even through my sneakers. Though I knew it wasn't very smart to be standing out here in the rain, getting more soaked by the minute, I found myself unable to move away. It felt like there was a spell spun around us and if I'd step away I would break it and the world would become a less beautiful place. Something inside me told me to close my eyes and to face the sky, just like Delphine, so I did. 

Delphine's perfume filled my nose and my head started spinning, which made me glad she was still holding me tight. I felt every drop of rain fall on my face, I felt her body against mine, her contours, so feminine yet perfectly shaped. Her hands moved from my lower back all the way up to my face, she cupped my cheeks with both hands and pulled my head down. I opened my eyes and found Delphine's face only inches away from mine, her pupils were large and I could hear her breathing had quickened. She glanced at my lips and I knew she wanted to kiss me. 

Hell, I wanted her to kiss me, but if we went there now, it wouldn't be fair. If finally she kissed me, she had to know what she was getting herself into, I had to tell her before I allowed her to put her lips on mine. The selfish side of me told me to just go for it, to just kiss her, because 'that is what you want anyway'. Yet the part of me that was in love with Delphine wanted her to wait until she knew and if then, she still wanted to kiss me, she could. Not when she was still in the unknown. 

Even so, I found myself doing something I normally wouldn't have. I leaned in a little bit and kissed her soft lips once. It wasn't long enough to be considered a real kiss, it was just our lips gently brushing against each other, but it was enough to provoke a deep, burning sensation in my stomach. My head started swimming again, the good kind that made you feel just a little tipsy. If that was my reaction to just a tiny kiss, I wondered what a full-one-with-tongue-kiss would be like. Perhaps I'd faint. At least I could blame my cancer if that happened. 

Delphine looked at me in wonder and there was so much love in her eyes that it scared me a little. How in the world could I hurt this woman so badly if I ever left this world. I'd say, how could I live with myself but I guess that wouldn't be the case, still, the thought of leaving her behind while I left my body for the sky, it literally made my skin crawl. 

Her thumb brushed my lower lip, soft and light as a feather. "I’m in love with you Cosima Niehaus," she murmured. 

I found myself murmuring back the words. "I’m in love with you too.”


	9. NINE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, chapter nine! Will Cosima finally tell Delphine what's going on? 
> 
> If you like, leave kudos, you can also follow me on Tumblr for updates. From now on it will take a little longer because I don't have as much time. Anyway, enjoy!

While Delphine was making us dinner, I sat at the table, though my laptop stood in front of me. I hadn’t touched it during the past fifteen minutes. Delphine kept a careful eye on me, looking over her shoulder regularly, asking how I was doing occasionally. I was doing all right physically but my head was a mess, tomorrow morning I had my appointment with doctor petit-Indian-man after which I would immediately proceed with my chemo therapy sessions.

Each time that thought came to mind my stomach turned about ninety degrees, making me feel nauseous. The thought of that poisonous liquid slowly making its way through my veins, made me feel anxious. I honestly hadn't thought it would be this bad. My mother had promised to take me to the hospital, but she couldn’t stay with me the entire day because she was taking my aunt to the spa for her birthday, it was something they'd planned months ago, even before I had told my mother about my cancer, so I had told her to not worry about me for one day and have fun with her sister who she saw so rarely already. 

My aunt worked as a CEO at some large company and rarely had a minute off, let alone an entire day so I'd forced my mother to go and have fun. Whatever kind of fun one could have inside a spa was a mystery to me but anyway, she’d leave to pick up my aunt from the airport right after my appointment with Doctor B. so right before my chemo sessions, which was when I needed her most. Not that I blamed her but still. 

The thought of asking Delphine had more than a thousand times crossed my mind ever since we'd sort-of-kissed on the roof, but every time my reluctance to tell her had won over the need to have her with me. Still I desperately wanted her to join me, to look into my eyes and tell me that everything would be all right, I wanted her to talk French to me, of which I wouldn’t understand a thing but I just really liked the sound of it. Just her being there would distract me enough to keep my thoughts away from what was happening. That was what she had given me during the past couple of weeks, she’d been the only thing or in this case person able to make me stop thinking about what was actually happening. She wasn’t even aware of doing it and in a way that was exactly what scared me, what if I told her and she would start acting differently, or worse, what if she’d be unable to deal with my illness and leave. 

Still, I wanted nothing more than her with me when they’d stick that central line back into my body. Without realizing it I had unconsciously made my way over to where Delphine stood stirring in a pan of what looked like spaghetti sauce. 

"Hi," she smiled and grabbed a spoon with which she got some of the sauce from the pan, she blew on it and held it in front of my mouth. "Try this.”  
I tasted it, ignoring the soaring heat that burned my tongue. "It’s really good," I practically purred because it was probably the best I had ever tasted. Delphine was, beside a, a friend-slash-probable-future-lover-or-not, I guess, probably the best unprofessional cook in the world.

Delphine’s face broke into a grin that lightened my mood a bit. 

"Delphine.”

She looked at me, her smile fading at my serious tone. "Oui?”

"I have to be somewhere tomorrow, would you mind coming with me?”

"Sure, where are we going?”

"Would it be all right if I don’t tell you.”

She nodded. "Sure, I guess," a small, uncertain smile appeared on her face. "I like surprises" she offered.

You won’t like this one.

I brought forth a fake smile with a certain amount of effort. "Thank you.”

For another long moment I lingered. "Delphine?”

"Yes?”

"Would you please stay the night?"

Delphine’s face lighted up a little but concern was still the main emotion capturing her face. "I would love to.”

The next morning we were picked up by my mother at eight precisely, not a minute before and not a minute later, my mother was punctual like that. Just when my mother texted me that she was had parked her car in front of the house and sat waiting for me and if she needed to come up to my front door and figuratively hold my hand while walking down the few stairs, exactly five, I realized that meeting someone’s mom was usually a big deal. Which was, when we walked down the stairs, I figured I had to tell Delphine about my mother picking us up before I gave her a heart-attack. Surely she would have given me one were she to take me to her parents without telling me.

"By the way, you’re meeting my mom.”

Delphine turned to face me, her green eyes big and alarmed. "You’re joking right?”

I grimaced and gently put my hand on her forearm. "Afraid not.”

"Oh merde, you should have told me, I look like a mess," she said as she got out her phone and faced the semi-mirror of her phone and raked a hand through her hair. She absolutely did not look like a mess, if anything she looked stunning a usual. 

I took her hands in mine. "You look beautiful, don’t worry about it.”

The panic-stricken look left her eyes only a little, she sighed deeply. "I hate you right now, you know that right, meeting my future mother in law in this state," she said it in a playful tone.

That made us both laugh. She always knew how to lighten the mood.

"She’ll love you," I smiled as I gently squeezed her hand. I wanted to hug her for officially being the coolest person on the planet.

Delphine flashes a broad grin at me. "I know, parents love me.”

I shook my head. "You’re insane.”

Once outside my mother waited by the car and when the both of us walked through the main entrance she frowned. Realization dawned on me again, I hadn’t told her either. Delphine nervously fingered the rim of the sweater she was wearing, my sweater, it looked good on her. 

My mother gave me a hug. ’Hello, how are you feeling?’.

“Fine, fine.” 

"So, who’s your friend?" she then asked. 

"Mom, this is Delphine, Delphine, this is my mother," I said as an introduction.

Delphine immediately extended her arm, offering her hand. "Delphine Cormier.”

"Alice Niehaus, nice to finally put a face with the name, she talks about you often," my mother said with a smile on her face. Did I really talk about her often? I felt my cheeks flush a deep crimson and had to look away. 

"Enchante.”

"Enchante," my mother repeated in such a flawless way that made me wonder where and when she had learned French.

"So you finally told someone," my mother then said, directing her attention at me.

Delphine looked at me. "she didn’t tell me.”

My mother’s face changed dramatically, her good-natured mood suddenly gone. She looked about ready to spew fire. "You didn’t tell her?”

I shook my head, looking down at my shoes in shame, realizing how big of a mistake I’d made by not telling her. "No, didn’t know how.” 

Delphine looked truly puzzled, her gaze shifting from me to my mother and back. "What am I missing?"

"Nothing, you’ll find out soon enough, I’ll explain later.”

"Delphine honey, go sit in the car, you can sit next to me, my daughter just got degraded from shotgun to backseat, I'd even put her in the trunk at this point if it weren't illegal. We’ll join you in a minute.”

Delphine nodded, looked at me with raised eyebrows and both my mother and I watched her sit down in the car and put on her seatbelt.

"Cosima, this is not the way to tell her, it’s not how you treat a friend," she said in a way that made my mood sank way, it sank like way down below the pavement, sewer system level down.

"I didn’t know what to tell her, I was afraid she might run away or something.”

"So you decide to keep the truth from her and make it a surprise. This very well might give her a heart attack.”

Heart attack had officially become the medical term of the day.

Where before I had felt a large amount of shame, it had now tripled, making me want to die on the spot. What the hell was I thinking, of course I had to tell her, I couldn’t just barge into the hospital and confront her with the fact that I was dying.

"I’ll tell her.”

"You do that.”

We walked over to the car and both got in, Delphine was already in her seatbelt.

"Delphine, I’ll tell you where we’re going now.”

Delphine kept quiet for a moment, then turned and looked me in the eyes, there was a sadness pooled in those eyes and that made my stomach churn, she knew something was very wrong. "I’d rather you don’t so I can pretend for another while that nothing is wrong and I would like to talk to your mother, get to know her a little, is that all right.” 

I nodded, if that was her choice, I’d accept it. She offered me a small smile and turned around in her seat again.

My mother started the car and drove away. The drive to the hospital, which was only a ten-to-fifteen-minute-drive by car, was spent listening to my mother and Delphine casually chitchatting in the front seats. Pretty soon my mind started going to the evening before. 

After dinner we’d plopped down on the couch, ready to watch a movie called ’Zombieland’. I'd picked it because I was sure than I'd fall asleep during the first half-hour of the movie, which I always hate, especially when it's a good movie. So that was why I had picked Zombieland, figuring a movie with such a lame title had to be bad, it wouldn't be a big problem if I missed part of the movie. Missing half of the movie was something I absolutely abhorred so I tried my best to stay awake. Pretty soon though, I’d felt too tired to keep my eyes open so Delphine had offered for me to lay down on her lap with my head. Almost the second I’d put my head down and she started gently stroking my arm, I had fallen asleep. 

I woke up a couple of hours later when Delphine gently shook me up so she could take me to bed. We laid down in my bed together, she was wearing an old, black sleeveless T-shirt of mine and a pair of black boxer briefs. She had looked phenomenal in them, it made my heart beat faster. I had wanted nothing so much as for her to kiss me, hadn’t it been for the fact that I couldn’t keep my eyes open. 

Besides, what was the point in her really, truly kissing me if she could still walk away from me the day after. Part of me was counting on it, part of me even wanted it to happen because I knew that it would kill her to find out that I had cancer and that I might as well be counting down the days until my funeral. The biggest part of me screamed at me to tell her because she would stay no matter what. I could somehow feel that in my bones. Yet while I had faith in that most of the time, there was still a little voice in my head that told me things like ’she will be gone the minute you tell her, she deserves better than this and she will hate you for keeping the truth from her’. I hated that voice that made me doubt the most amazing person I had met in my entire life. Mostly though, I hoped that Delphine would prove that stupid-fucking-annoying-voice wrong.

When we arrived at the hospital Delphine stopped talking and that had me worried. She rarely stopped talking but as the three of us made our way through the still-empty hospital corridors, her silence made my heart race, my hands sweat and the voice in my head scream ’told you so’ over and over again like the annoying fucker it was. As we made our way deeper into the hospital maze of corridors Delphine suddenly stopped walking, a panic-stricken look on her face as if realization finally dawned on her. My mother noticed and gave me a nod before she stalked away, I was going to hear this for a long time. She was almost as angry with me for not telling Delphine about my cancer, as when she had found out I had cancer. I almost grinned as I watched my clothed-tomato-look-a-like-mother walk off with her arms flailing beside her. Almost. 

I grabbed Delphine's hands and turned her toward me. I wanted nothing so much as to hug her, kiss her, tell her that everything was going to be all right but I’d be lying and lying was something I would do no longer. Especially now that we were here.

“You’re sick, like really bad aren't you?” Delphine asked, her voice breaking as tears formed in her beautiful green eyes that always reminded me of grass in summer. 

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m pretty sick I guess. I have leukaemia.” 

Delphine let go of my hands and moved shaking hands up toward her face, hiding behind them. Her hands were unable to conceal the loud sob that escaped from her throat.

I took her hands away from her face and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her in close. While she cried I stroked the back of her head and her back for a long five minutes until she backed away from me a little, looking at me with red, puffy eyes while tears continued to stream down her face. I gently wiped them away with my sleeve.

"Are you dying?" she finally asked in a broken, hoarse voice. 

I lifted her chin so she would look at me, I gave her the most reassuring smile I could muster. "I’m still fighting.”

"You better. I'm really angry with you and I'll kick your ass for this later, just so you know," she sniffed, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "You have to tell me everything later oui? Every single detail.”

I promised her I would.

"So why are we here now?”

"I have an appointment with my doctor, he’s going to tell me how he plans to proceed with my treatment and after I will immediately start with my next round of chemo.”

"A second round of chemo, why is that?”

I shrugged. "Because the amount of cancerous blood cells in my blood needs to go down more. They didn’t go down enough during the first. I really hope you like hospitals, you’ll be spending a lot of time here.”

Delphine nodded like she knew exactly what I was talking about. "So why did you decide to tell me today, why now?”

"Because I realized I want you there with me, I hate the chemo sessions and you’re the only person who’s been able to make me forget about having cancer.”

Delphine smiled a little, then tears appeared in her eyes again. "You really can’t die, I’m going to kill you if you do.”

That made me laugh. "You’re stupid.”

"No you are, for not telling me or your friends for that matter, they’re worried sick about you and with good reason apparently.”

"I told you.”

"It’s a start.”

"We have to go, my appointment is in a couple of minutes, do you need a moment?"

Delphine started wiping at her tears. "How do I look" she laughed between two sobs.

"Absolutely abhorring.”

"I don’t know that word, is it a compliment?”

I laughed. "My sarcastic tone made it into a compliment, it means terrible.”

Delphine opened her eyes wide. "You called me ugly?" she asked in fake astonishment, pinching me. "You’re the one who’s ugly.”

I merely laughed and kissed her cheek. "You could never look ugly," I murmured.

"Neither can you, you stupid lying woman, let’s get going before we’re late and your mom has to go in by herself.”

"Smart thinking, Doctor B. makes my mom uncomfortable.”

"Why?”

"He’s asked her out a couple of times.”

We both laughed and made our way over to doctor B’s office where my mother still sat waiting, she looked at us, more carefully at Delphine than at me, she gave me a ’don’t you dare to ever do that again to anyone you devil daughter of mine’ look. It was the look she gave me solely when she was super disappointed in me or my behaviour. 

My mother took Delphine’s hand in hers and gently squeezed it. "Don’t forgive her just because she has cancer," she said, shooting me another look.

Delphine laughed and I tried to hide my smile by turning away a little. "I promised her I would kick her ass later.”

My mother nodded approvingly. "Good.” 

They smiled at each other and my mother squeezed Delphine's hand. 

"I’m glad you’re still here Delphine," my mother said in a way that showed me they already had some sort of connection. Delphine was special like that.

"The thought to leave hasn’t even crossed my mind," Delphine said, winning my mother over even more. Just one more comment like that and my mother would fall in love with her too.  
That thought gave me pause, in love, that was truly how I felt about Delphine. For the first time in my entire life I understood what being in love felt like. I had exactly zero experience with being in love but I had never been more sure about anything in my life. Somewhere deep inside of me there was this feeling that told me this was exactly what being in love was supposed to feel like. Delphine was wonderful in every single way of course but the way she gave me more energy than I was supposed to, the way she made me feel safe yet entirely out of my comfort zone. Whenever she was near me I felt at ease and I missed her whenever she wasn’t. 

Many of my friends were gay so I had given the idea some thought but before Delphine there just hadn’t ever been anyone to catch my attention, boy nor girl. Some people had joked about me being a-sexual. Hadn’t really liked the jokes but they had stuck and they’d had me worried about myself for a long time. After meeting Delphine though, I was more than sure about one thing, I was not a-sexual, I had no clue as to what the hell I was then, straight, bi-sexual or gay but that didn’t really matter anymore, I didn’t care about labels. But standing there, in the hospital waiting room, I wanted nothing as much as for her to kiss me, to take off my clothes and make love to me, however the hell two women did that, I was clueless, but I wanted it. I wanted her. Perhaps she was my special-someone after all. 

Doctor B. came out of his office and first stole a peek at my mother, then at me and then his face turned surprised when he saw Delphine.

"Miss Niehaus, you brought a friend," he exclaimed, surprise obvious in his Indian-English accent that always made me smile, I tried to copy his peculiar accent often but failed to keep a straight face for longer than two seconds. Except that one time after he had asked my mom out, then I was able to repeat the entire conversation ’misses Niehaus, would you please go out with me one day, I would love to take you out to dinner, there’s this lovely Mexican restaurant I’m dying to try’. My mother had replied clearly with a louder than necessary ’no’. It still made us laugh so bad until my mother would yell at me to shop laughing or she’d pee her pants. 

"Yeah, figured I’d tell someone before they read it in the paper.” 

Doctor B. liked my dark humour and usually when we were alone he’d make crude death jokes with me, not with my mother in the room of course, he needed to make a good impression on her, period. 

The tiniest of smiles tugged at the left corner of his mouth. "You’re not dead yet," he offered. 

I smiled. My mother and Delphine scowled at me.

"What? I like death jokes.”

My mother shook her head disapprovingly. "You’ll never change," she murmured.

I shook my doctor’s hand and went into his office. He shook my mother’s hand and then Delphine’s. "Who is this lovely lady?" he asked.

That man was totally strange but still he was funny in his strangeness.

"Delphine," she offered and I realized once again how much I liked her name.

"What a lovely name, it fits your lovely appearance.” 

What a man. I absolutely adored him and his strange flirty ways that were entirely inappropriate but somehow tolerated because this tiny-human-being-doctor-man was adorable with his accent and his glasses and his smile. 

Delphine smiled politely as the man introduced himself, then she said her beautiful ’enchanté’ that gave me goose bumps and she went inside the office and sat down next to my mother who sat in the middle, I sat near the window where during my first appointment with doctor Indian-man I’d stared out of, watching the world outside that window continue its course while in here my entire world had crumbled down.

Doctor B. sat down opposite us, formed his usual pyramid with his fingers and put on his let’s-get-down-to-business face. 

"Cosima, as you know, you need another round of induction therapy, we’re going to start today and are very hopeful about it. That it didn’t work well enough the first time doesn’t mean it won’t work the second time either.”

“So what if it doesn’t work during the second round either. What then?” I asked, remaining sceptical as ever. 

“Let’s not think about that yet,” doctor B. said. 

I frowned, feeling the need to know exactly what would happen were I to not respond to the treatment this second round. Still, trying to be a good patient, I let it go, despite it eating away at my brain during the entire appointment. 

The rest of the appointment was rather uneventful. Doctor B. laid out the plan for the next month, and it was basically the same as before, another ten days of chemo after which I would have to stay in the hospital for another three weeks to make sure I wouldn’t get infections during my downtime. I call it downtime because during those three weeks my entire body is basically shut down, nothing functions properly, my body is so tired from all the chemo that I sleep more than anything, my blood values are so incredibly low that I can get an infection from basically anything, also there’s the fevers, the bowel problems, the soars in my mouth, basically, anything during those three weeks are for shit. 

The first thing they were going to do after my appointment is install a central line, they would do that during a small operation, after which they would give me all kinds of things to prepare me for the chemo after which the lovely poison will freely flow through my veins for ten lovely days. Not ten full days obviously, I’d have the nights off, during which I would sleep uncomfortably in my one-person-room because other people might get me infections and infections might very well kill me before I even got to phase two, deduction therapy. 

After we left the doctor’s office, my mother hugged me and Delphine goodbye and told us she'd come back with my aunt by the end of the day. I told her to enjoy her day at the spa and that tomorrow would be soon enough. She didn’t take no for an answer and told me she’d come by whether I wanted her to or not. She asked me to text her later to tell her how everything was going and I promised her I would even though she wouldn’t be able to read her messages while naked at the sauna. 

After my mother left, giving us both several hugs in the process and telling Delphine profoundly and repeatedly how happy she was she had come into my life, we made our way deeper into the oncology department and I headed straight for the department where I had to report for duty, or chemo camp as I liked to refer to it. Naturally I wasn’t allowed to be there long, too many infectious people around. I was immediately brought to my room, where a suspiciously-young-looking-nurse, one I had never seen before eventually came over and started hooking me onto the iv, missing my vein three fucking times in the process. My veins were easily found and missing the one it should go into, was like driving a Smart into a wall instead of a twenty-feet-broad garage. Luckily Delphine held my hand, kissing it lovingly each time the nurse called Marcy missed. What kind of name was Marcy anyway. What can I say, having cancer made me cranky. 

After the iv was finally in, I had to wait for a while until I was taken away by another nurse. Delphine was asked to wait for me until I’d return about an hour later. The procedure had become routine by now. I was put in a light sleep, my central line was installed in my neck like it had never left. I woke up in my room, cranky and slightly disoriented. Delphine sat by my bed, which was a new development, one I liked. 

Marcy came back in, hooked the poisonous-chemo treatment to it and then it was time to ’sit back and relax and let the chemo do its job’. I wanted to scream at her, 'you get fucking hooked to a fucking chemo iv’. 

"I have a surprise for you," Delphine said once the nurse was finally off, killing someone else’s arm while trying to get a needle into it. How the hell had she graduated college? 

I looked up into my favourite pair of eyes and had a total melting moment. "What kind of surprise?”

"The good kind.”

"Is there a good kind of surprise?”

Delphine smiled mysteriously. "Well, I’d like to think so. I bought you a gift," she let go of my hand and ducked to get something out of her bag. 

It was a small package in the form of a book, it was wrapped in brown paper, the old-fashioned kind. She put it in my lap. "Open it.”

The book was heavy and the cover was obviously hard, which I liked, paperbacks were for those who didn’t collect so it had to be a collectible. I started unwrapping the gift, curious as to what book it might be. Once I had gently pulled off the wrapping and saw what book it was, my eyes grew big, my heart started to race. "No way.”

Delphine grinned. I started to tear up.

"Delphine, this is too much.”

"No it’s not, it’s perfect.”

It truly was. In my lap lay a very old, very-expensive-looking-leather-bound-one-of-the-first-editions of Alice in Wonderland. The cover was old and worn and a shade of faded-brown, the pages were yellowed and perfect. The writer and the title were written in gold, which contrasted beautifully with the rest of the cover.

"It is perfect," I murmured.

Delphine lifted her arm and caught a tear that ran down my cheek. “Glad you like it.”

"I more than like it, I love it, thank you," I gently squeezed her hand and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "You’re amazing, you know that right.”

"I know," she winked.

"Thank you, for this, for still being here," I said, gesturing around me.

"I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here stupid. I won’t ever leave.”

"I might.”

Delphine’s face contorted in pain before she flashed a small smile filled with pain. "I’d rather spend one day with you and feel what I’m feeling right now than an eternity without having known you and without having felt what I’m feeling right now.”

"I don’t want you to be in pain and I know I might give you pain.”

She smiled at me so sweetly my stomach ached. "I know why you tried to push me away.”

“You don’t hate me for it?” 

 

“I could never hate you for anything, but I am still a little bit angry with you,” she winked. 

“Guess I have a little bit of making up to do then.” 

“I guess so.” 

We smiled at each other. “Perhaps I should cook for you one day, after all the times you did for me, just don’t expect my meal to taste as exquisite as yours does.”

“That’s all right, you can think of something else, I remember those eggs you boiled the other day.” 

My mouth fell open. "You said they were fine.”

"You had them, they were not all right.”

"Bitch, liar, asshole.”

Delphine laughed and I joined in. "They were terrible indeed, I suck at cooking. Sorry.”

"Luckily you have other skills as well.” 

"I hear I'm a pretty good writer.”

Delphine smiled. "You are indeed.”

"Lucky me, I wouldn't earn shit as a chef.”

"I don't think you'd even get a job as a chef, like anywhere.”

I laughed. "Well thanks for the vote of confidence.”

"Welcome.”

For a long moment we sat in silence. Delphine casually glanced around her and I followed her gaze, trying to imagine what she was seeing, how it made her feel to be here. It was a quiet day on the oncology department. Before, when we’d been to cancer camp, we’d seen a lot of people who’d been at least twenty years my senior but some had been about my age, one girl looked to be younger, she was in the company of a boy who was bald and his leg had been amputated. Cancer formed bonds for life, however long or short it might be. I'd made the mistake of making a 'friend' here as well, she died before I had even finished my first round of chemo. After that I had decided that there was one thing worse than having cancer and that was having a friend who had cancer and seeing them die a little more each day until the day their heart stopped beating. 

Ever since I was young I had hoped my death would be peaceful in bed at the age of eighty-something, then I found out I had cancer but still remained hopeful that even with cancer I'd die a quiet death. But after meeting Ira I knew better, seeing how every day he’d grown weaker, how his bones started showing more and more until it was almost intolerable to look at him, how in the end he couldn't even go to the bathroom by himself anymore. He’d needed a bag so the little fluid and food that were forced into his body through tubes, would be able to actually exit his body. 

Dying of cancer was nothing if not dishonourable. You were given a body and it was the only one you'd get, it was a body you were supposed to grow old with, you were taught from a young age to trust that body, accept it the way it was. Yet to me, finding out I had cancer, I felt betrayed, not by some God that was supposed to be looking down at us. In my opinion, if there would have been a God, they wouldn't be as cruel as to 'give' cancer to children, they wouldn't let groups of people murder each other just because they believed their God was better than the other's. It wasn't even about me, I had never thought of myself as important enough to be personally given cancer because I had either done something wrong or because he needed new angels, weren't they supposed to be immortal anyway? It all just sounded ludicrous to me. No, there was no God who had betrayed me, my body had.

"Cosima," Delphine said suddenly, pulling out of my dark train of thought. 

I looked aside at the woman who held my hand lightly, she played with my fingers, pulling at them one by one. "Yeah?”

"Did you really have a fifteen percent survival rate when you started?”

"Yes.”

"That isn't a lot.” 

I snorted softly. "I know.” 

"It almost gave me a heart attack.” 

A sad smile pulled at the right corner of my mouth. "I can imagine", I said and squeezed her hand hard. 

"I had no idea it was that bad.”

"Yeah, if fifteen live, eighty-five die.”

"But now there's forty survivors. You'll be one of those. You have to be.”

"I know. I want to be now.”

Delphine raised a disapproving eyebrow at me. "Not at first?”

I worked some saliva into my mouth, trying to swallow the bad taste in my mouth. "Honestly, I didn't really care at first. I didn’t even want to start the treatment.” 

"Why not?”

"Because I've never really had anything to live for, the only thing I ever really focused on was my work, that's not living, that's surviving so in a way I felt like it wouldn't really matter if I were still alive or not.” 

Delphine watched me intently while I spoke but remained silent for a long moment after I was finished explaining my former lack of interest in living. 

"You changed that, you know that right?" I added. 

She nodded. "Oui.” 

I tried to flash a heartening smile but completely failed in the attempt, instead my throat tightened and I was fighting back tears that threatened to escape from my eyes. 

"Hey, why are you crying.”

"Because I'm happy.”

"You're supposed to smile when you're happy," Delphine gently offered. 

That made me laugh through my tears. "I know. I guess I'm just suddenly afraid of dying, I mean, finally I have someone amazing in my life and now the thought of dying just makes me regret everything.”

"Define everything.”

"Not living, not meeting you sooner, focusing on my career only.”

"But that's only natural isn't it, you love your job, you didn't expect to get cancer, no one does really, right? We all hope to be lucky enough to be skipped. Now you just have an extra good motivation to fight because that's what you're going to do, you're going to fight until you kick that cancer in the balls.” 

I laughed again, drying my cheeks and runny nose with my sleeve. "This just blows.”

"It does but we're in this together, not literally, I know how people say that and it's easy to say when you're not the one with actual cancer but I'm here and I'm not going anywhere and I'm going to kick your ass if you stop fighting, cancer or not.”

"You're allowed.” 

More tears started flowing downward and a sob escaped from my throat. I looked around but there was no one near and besides, people who worked in the oncology camp were used to people crying. I'd seen more people crying during my time here, than ever in my life. Right then, I could hear the sobs of a woman echoing down the hallway. I wondered whether it was the cancer patient crying or a family member. I smiled inwardly when I realized it was more often the family members crying than the cancer patients. We're tough like that.

"Now stop crying and let's get down to business, how exactly do you make the most of chemo-therapy sessions?”

Delphine had a way of making even the most difficult situations seem bearable. With just a few words she wasn't only able to make me stop thinking about the predicament I was finding myself in, she actually tried knew how to make the best of a situation, even though it the reality of it was difficult to cope with. 

"Usually my mother just brings a couple of magazines, which I find incredibly boring. So I normally just watch something on my iPad.” 

"Hm, that just won't do, we're going to do something fun, did you bring your sketch pad with you.” 

I nodded and pointed at my bag. "It's in there.”

Delphine let go of my hand and got up in order to grab my bag. She took out my sketchpad and a pen. 

"What are you doing?”

"I'm not going to do anything, you're going to make a bucket list.”

"A list of things to do before I die, really? How morbid of you.”

Delphine shook her head disapprovingly. "No, we’re making a list of things you have to do while you live.”

Always that positive spin to crappy situations. She made my heart swell with love. "All right, I like that, you have to add yours as well though, we can do them together.”

"We should make categories though.” 

"What kind?”

"Well, I want to go skydiving one day but we can't do that during chemo-time because you'd fall asleep before we'd jump out of the plane.”

She flashed a smile and I grinned. She was probably right. 

About an hour later we had a large sheet with dozens of bucket list items on it, written horizontally, vertically, small, big, beautifully and practically unreadable. Delphine officially had the worst handwriting I had ever seen in my life and that said a lot, my grandfather used to be a doctor with classic doctor’s handwriting but his way of writing would be considered pretty compared to Delphine's. So in the end, I’d started writing down most of the bucket list items that belonged on our list. There were two categories, the first being a during-chemo and the second being after chemo. The first half of the page contained the more soft items such as visit an aquarium, go to a zoo, go to Disneyland, though that last one was a difficult one to place because an entire day of Disneyland could be rather strenuous. 

“I want to start crossing off items of our list, starting as soon as possible,” Delphine said while compiling the first list.

“I agree, maybe we should start off with this one,” I replied, pointing at the one I had just written down.

Properly kiss Delphine Cormier.

A smirk appeared on her face but then she frowned a little. “Right here, right now?” she asked.

I looked about and a shiver travelled down my spine when I watched all the people around me sit in their recliner, being poisoned by a substance that was supposed to make them better in the end. There was no way I’d kiss Delphine for the first time while having chemo pumped through my veins. So I shook my head and offered a gentle smile. “Later,” I promised. 

Delphine had smiled and winked. “You better not disappoint because I absolutely love kissing.”

“Great way to pressure me woman.” 

Delphine grinned at me and leaned in to kiss my cheek .“You’ll do fine, Sarah told me you were a great kisser.”

My eyes grew big in surprise. “No way, she told you that?”

“Oui, when I first told her I liked you.” 

“When was that?”

“Two days after our dinner party.” 

“You already knew?”

“Honey, I knew the moment I bumped into you at the Starbucks.” 

I took a moment to let that sink in and stretched out my hand toward Delphine, she got the hit and put hers took Delphine’s hand in mine. 

“When did you know you were in love with me.”   
“I guess I truly realized it when I looked at the sketches you made of me. They were so beautiful and the way you had drawn me, no one has ever looked at me like you have. It made me feel special and well, it gave me butterflies.” 

Her words made me grin like a Cheshire cat. Another bucket list item came to mind and my pencil moved over the paper in my lap. 

“What are you writing?” Delphine asked, leaning in curiously to read my words. “Get high with Delphine,” she read.

“Seriously? You want us to get high together?” she commented in a slight disapproving tone. 

“What? I have cancer, I’m allowed to smoke medicinal marijuana.”

“For the pain yes.”

“Obviously.”

Delphine shook her head and I nudged her arm with my elbow. “Come on, be crazy with me, let’s smoke pot.” 

She took a long moment of consideration, then sighed in resignation. “Sure, fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah, I worked on this story a while back. I liked it so much, I thought I'd give it a go and put it online. Hope you'll like it (whoever you are). Hope to hear from you either way!


End file.
